To Hell With Responsibility
by x-caitlin-x
Summary: Hermione and Draco get far too drunk and have to deal with the consequences. Rated for some violence, language and sexual scenes. It will get a little darker in later chapters, so don't read it if you're just looking for sex and fluff between HG and DM.
1. I'll Drink You Under The Table

Disclaimer: if you recognize anything, then it's not mine.

A/N: Again, I've revisited the first chapters of this story and hopefully worked out any remaining kinks. I break for Christmas soon so I'm hoping to be able to update regularly, at least for now.

A/N: I understand that a lot of people appreciate review responses, but while I thank everyone for their continued support, it's just too difficult to respond to them all so I've decided to leave them. Instead, let me thank everyone now for their continued support and encouragement.

Chapter One

I'll Drink You Under The Table

Hermione didn't trust herself to speak. Who knew what kind of hex or curse might come out of her mouth, with the mood that she was in. Instead she turned on her heel and walked out of the common room, leaving Harry and Ron standing with their mouths hanging open. "But – but what did we say?"

Lavender sighed and looked up from her tarot cards. "Ron, she's feeling undesirable and boring anyway. You just brought it to everyone's attention."

"And how would you know? You get that from your divination?" Ron sneered at her.

She ignored the insult, but did narrow her eyes a little. "Hermione might not be interested in make-up charms and glitter dress–robes, but she's still a girl. And I know more about my gender than you ever will, Ronald Weasley."

Harry nodded. "Yeah Ron, you were a bit tactless."

The snort was very unlike Lavender, and both boys looked at her in surprise. "You were no better, Harry. Honestly, I can see why the two of you need to be friends with her. You'd never get anywhere without her to explain everything to you."

The boys looked at each other and decided not to discuss it any further. It seemed that Lavender could be just as scathing as Hermione, so long as it was a topic she knew something about. Ron muttered something about girls being far too sensitive for his liking, and they decided to give her some time to cool off. They soon lost themselves in a game of wizard's chess, though, and forgot about Hermione's bad mood.

888

"What are you going to have?" Hermione glanced at the dirty bar stools, the cobwebs, the shadows and the goblins, sighed, and sat down anyway. She knew all too well that she was about to break the rules in a seriously big way, and in the dodgiest pub in Hogsmeade, no less.

"I don't care. So long as it's strong enough to get me drunk, it's OK by me."

The barmaid raised her eyebrow and for a minute, Hermione thought she was going to comment, but then the woman shrugged and turned to get a bottle. "That'll be a fire-whiskey then. You're from the school, aren't you?" She filled the glass and slid it over to Hermione, who put the money on the table.

"Yeah I am, I'm afraid. I've got ID, but I don't think you'll want to see it."

The witch nodded knowingly and grinned, showing a mouth containing only three yellowed teeth. "Never asked to, and you look old enough to me." She winked at Hermione – which was very bizarre to see, given that she had only one eye.

Hermione found the darkest corner in the place and settled back into it, ignoring the lecherous looks she was getting from the old wizard sitting across the room. She studiously avoided eye-contact with everyone in the place, and swallowed a mouthful of liquid from the filthy glass. She winced as it burnt the back of her throat, then resolutely took another swig.

Half an hour later, she was still on her first drink. She had pulled herself as far into the corner as possible, and was starting to regret coming out at all. A glance out of the window told her that it was already getting dark, and she wasn't completely sure she could find her way back to the castle in the dark. The secret passage would be no help, of course, unless she wanted to get arrested for breaking into Honeydukes.

She was so lost in her own thought that she never noticed the man that slid onto the seat beside her until he spoke. "Are you alright there, darling?"

She jumped and turned towards him, instinctively reaching for her wand. The man was ugly and threatening, sitting only inches away from her. "Get away from me." She spoke through gritted teeth, trying hard not to show her fear. The witch at the bar would surely intervene before anything got really out of hand. But then, this wasn't a nice place - maybe things like this were the norm. She tightened her hold on her wand.

"Oh now come on, don't be like that. We could have some fun together. Don't you think…" he ran a finger suggestively down her arm, but didn't get any further.

"Stupefy!" He was a big man, but completely unprepared for the spell, and Hermione's magic was stronger than that of an average 17-year-old. He wasn't knocked out, but was dazed enough for Hermione to be able to push him far away from her. The goblins barely looked up at the commotion, but the one-eyed witch was at the table in an instant. "You come near me again and I will put you into Mungos for the rest of your life."

The man backed away nervously at the sight of Hermione's wand, and she started to wonder whether he was even a wizard, let alone a dark one. The witch that had come up to help Hermione smiled at her. "Sorry love, most of the people in here just go about their business in quiet. Don't let this put you off."

"He's not a wizard?"

"No, Conan's a squib," she said, looking disdainfully at the man who was still backing away. "It makes him feel inadequate so he tries to intimidate young women who he thinks won't fight back." She grinned again, showing all three of her teeth. "Looks like you picked the wrong witch this time, Conan. Now why don't you leave before the girl carries out her threat?" Muttering and sulking, the man left without any real complaint, and the witch turned to Hermione. "So sorry about this, love. Do you want another drink? On the house."

Hermione hesitated again, her old doubts returning, but then she mentally kicked herself for being so boring. True, she had been irritated with Harry and Ron, but maybe they were right. She never took any risks, and surely Gryffindors were supposed to be brave and daring. Even she had to admit that letting go without thinking of the consequences for once had been exhilarating. She nodded. "Another drink would be great, thanks."

888

Draco entered the bar alone, relieved to have finally finished his transfiguration essay, and ready for some hard liquor. He didn't expect to see anyone he knew – he had been frequenting the Crow Pub since his fifth year at Hogwarts and he had never seen anyone else from the school there. Located on the outskirts of the town, he wasn't even sure if the teachers knew it existed. And since they didn't look too kindly on underage drinking at Hogwarts, that was a big plus point. The fact that the bar-staff would serve anyone over the age of nine was also a factor.

He nodded to the witch behind the bar and pulled out a bar-stool, ready to stay for a good couple of hours. "Magenta, my love, I will have a fire-whisky if you've got one spare." The one-eyed waitress grinned at him and passed him a glass, leaning over to whisper to him.

"I've never seen any of your friends in here before." He looked at her questioningly, and she nodded towards Hermione's corner. "She's been in here since half-six. Says she comes from the school. Kicked up quite a fuss about an hour ago."

Draco looked over and saw Hermione dressed in a long black cloak, a few empty glasses on the table in front of her. She had straightened her hair to try and make herself less obvious, but she was still unmistakable.

"Granger?" He turned back to Magenta and explained, "just a stuck-up mudblood bitch I go to school with."

"Well she didn't seem so bad when I spoke to her. She certainly taught Conan a lesson."

"She took on that idiot?" After a moment to think about this, he started to laugh. "I'll bet that didn't go down well?" Magenta shook her head. "Still, how stupid must she be to take on someone his size? If he weren't a squib she'd have been dead by now. That's exactly what I mean about her – only Granger would believe that she could take on a fully-grown wizard and win." Magenta rolled her eyes, then moved away to serve a hunchback on the other side of the bar. Draco sat back and regarded Hermione with some interest as he drank his fire-whisky. He found himself thinking that, with her hair all sorted out she wasn't all that unattractive. But could he ignore her heritage for one night? On the one hand, his entire creed was screaming at him that she was not worthy, but on the other, he was a 17-year-old boy with a raging sex drive, and in the dim candle-light she was looking pretty damn sexy. He sighed, and called Magenta back over.

"You want another drink? Starting as you mean to go on, that's what I like to see," she laughed.

"No, Magenta, I wanted your advice."

"Advice? Draco, honey, people usually wait until they're drunk to pour out their troubles to me. Besides, I'm paid to be a barmaid, not a therapist."

"I'll buy you a drink," he said with a smile.

"Sold." She pulled up a bar-stool, opened a bottle, and sat, ready to listen attentively, pausing only to yell, "get your own damn drinks!" to a customer who requested her service. She turned back to Draco. "OK. Continue."

"Well I was just wondering. What's your view on sleeping with mudbloods?"

Magenta raised her one eyebrow and glanced over at Hermione. "You're talking to the wrong witch here, honey. As far as I'm concerned, sex comes before pure blood every time," she said with a grin. "You're a growing boy. So long as you don't fall in love with the girl, what's the difference? And if she's as stuck-up as you say she is, it could be interesting. Still waters run deep, and all that." Magenta finished off her drink and set it down on the table with a flourish. "That's if you think you can handle her. She didn't seem too open to propositions when Conan was chatting her up." She winked at him and walked back behind the bar. Draco's competitive spirit flared up inside him and he stood up with purpose. He knew it was going to take all his skill to crack that little mudblood in the corner.

888

Hermione looked up, hand on her wand, when someone slid into the seat beside her, almost expecting to see Conan beside her again. Still, the tall blonde sitting there wasn't much of an improvement. "My, my - a Griffindor drinking. Doesn't that go against your code of honour, or something?"

"Leave me alone, Malfoy."

"Now, Granger, that's not very polite. I actually came over to ask if you wanted to have a drink with me. I've always felt that you and I have never really understood each other, and I wanted to fix that." His voice was heavy with mocking undertones.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy. I've had quite a bit to drink, and nothing to eat all day. I could be dangerous for all you know."

"If you're trying to tell me that you're drunk, love, there's really no need. I could have figured that one out all for myself. Here, let me get you some water."

"God, not from this place. The glasses are even dirtier than the ones in the Hog's Head."

"Don't be stubborn. It won't work." He gently took the fire-whiskey away from her and went up to the bar to get a glass of water. "Here you go, drink this. It'll sober you up."

"I don't want to be sober. I came here to be drunk. I don't care if it's against the rules and I don't care if it's not sensible. I don't care."

"Oh, so this is a rebellion kick then, is it? Makes sense, I suppose. Now come on, drink it. You might not care right now, but you're totally drunk, and Dumbledore won't like it if you stumble into the dining hall and throw up over everything. I can't imagine Filch would be too pleased either." Hermione said nothing, and Draco leant back in the seat, looking infuriatingly at ease. "So, as the cliché goes, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?

"Nothing." Hermione sipped the water reluctantly, glaring at the table. "I just felt like a drink."

Draco shrugged, and looked at the other patrons in the bar. "OK, but I'd suggest that next time you take a journey onto the dark side, take someone with you. That wizard over there is a regular here, and not known for his gentleness with women, if you know what I mean."

"I can handle myself."

"Against a guy like that? I don't think so. You might have handled Conan, but if he had been a wizard then you wouldn't have been getting out of here alive." She tossed her hair back and shot him a look worthy of McGonagall herself. But one thing Draco was good at was seduction – the one thing Hermione wasn't prepared for. He leant in and placed one hand over hers. "You want to be careful, Hermione. You can't save yourself from everyone."

Hermione looked up into his eyes, feeling vulnerable and disarmed by his sudden change in attitude. "Why do you care, Malfoy?"

He sat back casually, phase one of the seduction complete. "Call me Draco," he said, with a suave smile. He glanced down at the table. "So, that all you've had to drink so far?"

"What do you mean, so far? Four fire-whiskeys is a huge amount." Draco just laughed, and she glared at him, the alcohol making her feel daring and fun. "Fine. If you think it's so little, you do it." She sat back and folded her arms.

"Have four fire-whiskeys?" She nodded. "Honey, that's not even enough to make up a normal Friday night for me. Do you really want me to match you drink for drink? Can you bear to agree to a challenge that you're doomed to lose?" He watched her carefully and the indecision was showing in her eyes. "Come on, take a walk on the wild side for once. To hell with responsibility?" That did it – she tossed her hair back and grinned.

"I'll drink you under the table, Malfoy."

888

Three hours and several drinks later, both the Slytherin and the Gryffindor were undeniably drunk. "You want to give up yet?" In response to the swaying girl in front of him, Draco smirked and picked up another glass. Hermione giggled. "I don't think I can do another one."

"Oh, so you mean I win?" He laughed at her frown. "I think that means I win, Granger. The Slytherin male is triumphant again." She scowled, and Draco looked at her, a teasing smile on his face. "Hey, we're just having fun here, right?" She relented, and smiled up at him. "Doesn't it feel good to let your hair down?" Draco was so close that he was whispering, and Hermione could feel the electricity in the air. She was so quiet she was almost holding her breath. Draco reached up and gently pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. He brought his face down to meet hers, and Hermione hesitantly tilted her head up. Her eyes drifted shut when their lips met.


	2. About Last Night

Chapter Two

About Last Night…

Hermione sat up, yawned and stretched. And then instantly closed her eyes again, putting a hand up to her head in an attempt to soothe the pounding. She frowned in concentration, trying to remember where she was and how she had got there. She was lying under a heavy black cover, which she pushed away, as she gently sat up and looked around. As she saw the way the room was furnished, things started to come back to her. Draco and her in the hot tub. Draco and her on top of the desk. And she didn't even want to think about the mirror that was above the bed. She understood why the Room of Requirement had turned itself into a bedroom, but why did it have to look more like a cheap hotel room meant for everything but sleep? She sighed, well-aware that last night she hadn't needed much convincing. "I'm never drinking again," she muttered.

"Now don't say that." Hermione leapt out of the four-poster at the sound of Draco's voice, and pulled the cover tightly around her. "Drinking can be fun. Remember?" He was leaning in the doorframe between the bedroom and the bathroom, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

She glared at him: forget the fact that she hadn't needed much convincing last night – it was totally his fault that she was in this situation. "Get out of here, Malfoy. I have to get dressed."

"Don't worry, I'm just getting into the shower." He grinned again. "Care to join me?"

He judged from the look that she gave him that staying in the room wasn't necessarily a good idea, and he disappeared rather quickly into the bathroom. Hermione checked behind the desk for her shirt, hoping that Malfoy was the kind of person that took very long showers. But she was still only in her skirt and bra when he came back into the room, wearing only a towel.

He ran his hand languidly through his messy wet hair, and another memory of last night flashed through her mind. Running her hands through his hair while he was… she blushed deep red and turned away, focusing on finding her clothes. "Why exactly are you in such a hurry?" Draco drawled.

"People will start to wonder where I am, and I for one don't want to have to explain this to them." Hermione scowled at him, still searching for her blouse. Where on earth had she thrown her clothes last night?

"So they'll just assume you got up early and went to the library. I won't think any the less of you if you stay, you know. I think the bed is one of the few places that we didn't try out last night."

She raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down as contemptuously as she could manage. "Stay? And what on earth makes you think that I would want to do that?"

The smirk was back again, and Draco opened the wardrobe, taking delight in Hermione's obvious discomfort. "Well you were quite eager to do so last night. Changed your mind, have you? What's happened to that sexy rebel I met in the pub?" He took out a pair of jeans and threw them on the bed, then pulled his towel off, making no effort to cover himself. Hermione turned her head away.

"Just get dressed and don't talk. At all, OK? Where the hell is my shirt?" Hermione continued to hunt around the room, making sure to avoid the sight of Draco getting dressed.

Draco, meanwhile, was enjoying the view. "I really don't see why you need it so badly. You look great in what you're wearing, you know." He grinned to see Hermione blush even more, and nodded towards the corner of the room. "You check by the door? If I remember rightly you weren't slow about disrobing."

She turned and saw her shirt straight away. She put it on as quickly as possible and slipped into her shoes. She was at the door within minutes, then turned back to shoot a threatening look at Draco. She found her wand and pointed at him reclined on the bed. "You try and tell anyone about last night and you won't live long enough to get out more than 'Guess what...'."

"Don't worry about it." Draco got up off the bed and strolled towards her. He kept one hand against the door, effectively trapping her in the room, and leant in close. He tilted his head to kiss her and Hermione closed her eyes in spite of herself. But instead of his lips meeting hers, the boy whispered in her ear, "I wouldn't want anyone to know I'd fucked a mudblood." Furious, Hermione stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

888

Harry didn't sleep well that night, and eventually woke very early. He was sure that he hadn't seen Hermione come back to the common room last night, and it wasn't like her to miss curfew. He pulled on his robes and shook Ron. The other boy grumpily opened one eye, and when he saw Harry's face hovering above him, he grudgingly opened the other one as well. "What is it?"

"Do you remember seeing Hermione last night?"

"What?" Ron was trying unsuccessfully to wake himself up properly. "Of course I do. Lavender explained all that to us last night. Let me go back to sleep."

"Ron, I mean after that. She left in a huff, but did she actually come back to the common room last night?"

He sat up and yawned, since Harry was clearly not going to let him sleep. "Yes, of course she did."

"Did you actually see her, though?"

"Harry, Hermione wouldn't do anything stupid. She probably just went off to the library or something. And then waited until she knew we'd be gone to come back just to get her own back. I bet she's forgotten all about it by now. There's nothing we can do anyway. What, are you going to try and sneak up into the girls' dorms to check up on her? Tell me if you are. I could use a laugh, seeing you try to walk up a slide." Harry wasn't convinced that she was OK, but Ron had a point. He couldn't just go charging into the girls' room, even if he was able to bypass the wards. "I'm sure she'll be at breakfast, Harry."

888

Hermione turned at the sound of Draco's delighted laughter coming from the room she had just left, and glowered at the arrogance and viciousness of the boy. She glanced up at the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, barely noticing that the poor man was being beaten up, lost in memories of the other times she had seen it – times when the room of requirement had been used for DADA training as opposed to sordid sex games with a Slytherin. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was still early. Malfoy was right about that at least – no-one would find her absence suspicious. She made her way back to the common room, making sure to go via the library just in case anyone thought to check her story out later. She came to the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Ooh, out all night, Mrs. Rule-breaker? Naughty, naughty. Will I have to tell on you?"

Hermione smiled to hide her nerves. "Not at all, I was just up at the library. Did you have a good night?"

The Fat Lady giggled and blushed. "Well I did actually, but don't tell anyone. The knight from three pictures down came to visit me." At this point the knight himself jumped up and saluted, very cockily. "Anyway, young lady. Password?"

Hermione took a deep breath before managing to say "Voldemort". The Fat Lady shivered, but the door swung open. There were still students unable to say that name, and since Dumbledore had changed every common room password to it Neville had been found a couple of times, waiting for someone else to let him in. At least, some had joked, it was a password he remembered. It did make the whole point of passwords rather redundant, but Dumbledore didn't seem to mind too much.

She stepped inside and was greeted immediately by Harry, who practically jumped on her, and Ron, a little further behind. "Oh Hermione, we're so sorry. We didn't mean to upset you. Are you OK now?"

Hermione hesitated, trying to recall what they were talking about. Then she remembered exactly what had taken her to the Crow Pub in the first place. She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Don't you think you're getting off that easily. I can't believe you..." she trailed off, seeing their sorrowful looks, and smiled. "Forget it. I forgive you both. And it's not like anything bad happened, is it?" She fought the blush that was determined to come to her cheeks, but the boys didn't even notice.

"Harry was all for charging your room to check up on you," Ron grinned.

"Well I didn't see you come in last night," Harry explained. "Where were you, anyway? Did you come in last night?"

This was the difficult part, Hermione realised. The girls might have noticed she was missing as well. "Yeah, of course I did. I fell asleep at the library and Madam Pince must have missed me when she closed up for the night. It was pitch black when I woke up, so I sneaked in here and slept on the sofa. Didn't want to wake anyone up."

"But then how come you just came in now?" Harry was frowning, trying to figure it out, and Hermione laughed.

"Well I got up early and went back to the library, of course. Honestly, Harry, didn't you think of checking on the Maurauder's Map?" Ron grinned when she said this, and Harry turned slightly pink. Taking advantage of this distraction, Hermione leapt up and smiled brightly at them both. "Anyway, don't fret Harry. Anyone could have made that mistake. I'm going up to get changed." She hurried up the stairs, praying that they didn't notice anything was wrong. Luckily for her, Ron was still too tired, and Harry too relieved.

"Can I go back to bed now?"

888

Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat to make an announcement, and waited patiently while the students fell silent. "Good morning, everyone. Sorry to interrupt your meal, but I have been asked to pass on this message to you all. Professor Snape tells me that the Duelling Club is to be restarted." He smiled at the resulting chatter, and let it go on for a few minutes before continuing. "It will take place directly after dinner at 7pm, in this hall. For those interested in years two and three it will be on Monday evenings; years four and five will meet on Wednesdays; and the upper years will meet on Fridays. That means that all sixth and seventh years willing to attend will have to do so tonight. Because of the nature of the club, first years will have to wait." There was a twinkle in his eye as he glanced at the Gryffindor table. "Some of the older students may do well to remember that these duels are friendly." Many of the Gryffindors in the sixth year couldn't help glaring at the Slytherin table, remembering all too well the giant snake that Draco had summoned in year two.

Ron's eyes were bright as he turned back to his house-mates. "Great! I've been itching to duel with someone – I learnt the best hex over the summer. Fred and George taught me."

Hermione looked up and made a half-hearted effort to berate him. "Ron, you shouldn't set out to hurt people deliberately. Professor Dumbledore is right – they're friendly fights."

"Come on, do you really think the Slytherins will be playing by those rules? I'm going to be ready for them this time round." Ron glared at the Slytherins and toyed with his wand in what he hoped was a threatening manner.

"I really think that this war between the houses can get ridiculous sometimes. We're all members of Hogwarts, after all. I don't see why we have to be so barbaric, just because they are. We could take the moral high ground."

Ron's expression grew incredulous as he listened to Hermione. "How can you say that? They've picked on you enough times. And on Harry. Not to mention Snape's always taking points off us for no reason. I for one would be more than happy to be friends if they were, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let them walk all over us. We've got to look out for the interests of our house. That's not barbaric, it's just self defence." Hermione rolled her eyes at this little loyal speech, so Ron turned to Harry for support. "Am I right?"

"I've got to agree with Ron on this one, Hermione." He spoke again quickly, to stop her from interrupting him. "Well come on, even you have got to admit that sometimes you've wanted to just hit out at - Pansy Parkinson, say." Hermione's disapproving glare softened a little, but it was still there. "Or you've had that desire to turn Malfoy into a ferret and bounce him up and down. You can't say that that one wasn't fun to watch." He grinned, and Ron gave him a high-five, remembering Professor Moony's unusual punishment. At the mention of Malfoy, however, Hermione smiled innocently and glanced over at the Slytherin table.

"Maybe you're right, Ron. Maybe duelling will be fun after all.

Malfoy didn't miss the look that she gave him, and remembered Magenta's words about how strong Hermione had been yesterday. So maybe he would read up on his hexes before the club tonight. Another look at her expression, though, made him think that perhaps he would just make sure he wasn't partnered with her.


	3. Duels and Dragons

Chapter Three

Duels And Dragons

Draco entered the Great Hall flanked, as usual, by Crabbe and Goyle, and saw the clearly identifiable duelling platform in the middle. About half their year had turned up – almost all Slytherins and Gryffindors – and the same was true about the seventh year students. Snape was standing on the platform with McGonagall, and silenced the crowd with an icy stare. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, yet not one of the students had to strain to hear him. "Professor Dumbledore thought it might be wise for more than one teacher to take the duelling club, at least for the time being. So we are lucky that Professor McGonagall stepped up," he sneered, spitting out the word 'lucky' as if it were poison. The woman ignored his barely veiled insult and smiled at the students.

"I know that all of you have ample experience in blocking and protection spells, so we will move straight into duelling today, to get an idea of your general level. We will pair you up ourselves, ensuring an even distribution of power and ability." She gave them all a stern glare. "Professor Snape and I will be watching closely. Anyone using very dangerous or, God forbid, illegal spells will be stopped and punished immediately. Do all houses understand me?" Here she looked very hard at them, pausing to pick out a few of them to glare at. They all murmured their assent, although some slightly reluctantly.

Snape and McGonagall moved through the crowd, making sure that the weaker students were matched with equally harmless opponents, while the advanced pupils were given challenging partners. Snape reached Hermione before McGonagall did, and he looked down at her with some interest. "Miss Granger, I think it would be unwise to put you with anyone of lesser ability." He looked over at Draco and snapped his fingers. "Mr. Malfoy, you will partner Miss Granger." Harry and Ron looked at the tall, dark teacher in alarm, then over to their own head of house for some help. McGonagall, however, was busy elsewhere, and barely spared them a glance.

"I'll partner her, Professor," Ron began, and Snape looked at him, a spitefully amused smile playing on his lips.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley, but your offensive spells are so awful that I fear Miss Granger may end up seriously harming you simply out of boredom. It wouldn't reflect well on the school if any of you were killed in a duel, although I must say it would not be a great loss."

Ron leapt forward, struggling to get away from Hermione and Harry, who were holding him back. "If you don't want a student to get killed then you shouldn't have let Malfoy come at all. The little ferret will jump Hermione the second he gets a chance." Draco raised his eyes to meet Hermione's, and smirked when she flushed and looked away.

Snape smiled thinly at the struggling boy. "10 points from Gryffindor for your rudeness, Mr. Weasley. If you complain further then it will be 50, and a detention. You would do well to do as your friends seem to be suggesting and stay back." He swept away majestically to another part of the hall, leaving Ron staring fiercely in his direction.

"Don't worry Hermione; we'll make sure he doesn't hurt you."

Draco laughed out loud at that, but Hermione cut him off before he began to speak. "Don't be silly, Ron," she said briskly. "I got top marks in defensive spells last time we studied them." Ron looked doubtfully from her to Draco, who looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying Ron's discomfort. "Go on, Snape hasn't given you partners yet. Get in McGonagall's line of sight and maybe you'll be lucky enough to be paired together." She gave them both a small, reassuring smile and waved them off.

Draco wondered at her sending them away, since she had seemed so embarrassed to be alone with him that morning, but when she turned to face him he took an involuntary step back; he was certainly sure of his own abilities, but there was a dangerous glint in Hermione's eye that warned him to be particularly wary.

Despite her apparent lack of interest in the dispute when Ron and Harry had looked to her for help, Professor McGonagall had noticed the partnering, and mentioned her misgivings to Snape at the first opportunity. "Pitting the most intelligent sixth years from Slytherin and Gryffindor against each other in a duel? Severus, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Would you prefer I placed Draco with Neville Longbottom? Or Miss Granger with Miss Parkinson? You know as well as I do, Minerva, that they are both capable of blocking the other's attacks." He moved briskly away and, after checking that all the pairs had suitable space around them, gave the command to begin.

Harry, after a quick look around the hall, recognised that Draco and Hermione were completely hidden by other pairs of duellers, and was concerned. A light blasting curse from Seamus soon brought him round, though, and he decided that Hermione could take care of herself, before forgetting his worry completely.

888

Hermione, still stung by the memory of Draco's cruel rejection, for once had no intention of playing by the rules. He barely had his wand up before she had shot a stinging hex at him, but with little enough power that all he did was look surprised. "Not very well-mannered, Granger. But then what more should I expect from someone brought up by muggles?" Eyes blazing, Hermione sent a furnunculus curse in place of a response, which Draco lazily deflected. "And there I thought you were supposed to challenge me." Hermione raised her wand again, but Draco was quicker. "Densaugeo!"

Hermione laughed humourlessly as she deflected the curse. "Again, Malfoy? Don't you remember? I learned how to stop that one years ago." But the memory of that curse, the one that had made her teeth abnormally large, did nothing to improve her temper, and she narrowed her eyes at her enemy. "But if you want to go over past favourites…" she pointed her wand at him, and shouted the Rictusempra curse at him, the one that Harry had used so long ago on the blonde boy.

Not expecting such a tame curse, Draco wasn't ready to defend himself from the silver jet of light that shot from Hermione's wand, and doubled over in laughter as the curse hit him. He fell to his knees, seemingly unable to stop laughing for long enough to perform the counter-curse on himself. Hermione looked over at him and walked forwards, shortening the distance between them, idly playing with her wand as she considered taking him out while he was incapacitated. But she glanced over at her head of house and, remembering McGonagall's warning against using dangerous spells, she hesitated.

888

Meanwhile, the air around them was thick with curses, hexes, shields and deflectors. Light was flying from every wand, and it wasn't long before the inevitable cry was heard. The duels stopped and both teachers rushed to the source of the noise, to see Neville rolling around on the floor holding his stomach and Ron hopping around clutching one foot. McGonagall turned angrily to find the culprit, but was stopped by Neville, calling from the floor. "It wasn't Ron, Professor. I aimed wrong and hit my stomach, and then I fell forwards onto Ron's foot." Many other the others laughed, and Snape rolled his eyes, sighing in exasperation.

"Professor McGonagall, would you take your incompetent Gryffindors down to the hospital wing?" It was clear from the look on McGonagall's face that she wasn't comfortable leaving Snape there on his own, and he sighed again. "Fine, I'll take them. You stay here and keep an eye on things." He picked up a terrified Neville and carried him in his arms, Ron hopping after him.

888

Draco had managed to cast the counter-curse and stopped Hermione's Rictusempra from completely debilitating him, and was now getting to his feet, taking advantage of her temporary distraction. He casually cast a light jelly-legs hex on her, bringing her attention sharply back to the duel, as she struggled to keep her balance. "Maybe you should ask yourself why you're really so angry, Granger." He still looked vaguely amused, and Hermione gripped her wand, cold fury building up inside her.

"Excuse me?" She was speaking low, but the noisy chatter following Neville and Ron's accident was so loud around them that she needn't have worried about people overhearing her. "How dare you even ask me that?" He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue, which she did in an annoyed hiss. "You totally took advantage, got me drunk, called me a mudblood -"

"Is that really it?" He smirked. "Magenta tells me that you were willing to face down Conan when you thought he was a wizard. If that's the case then you wouldn't have thought twice about threatening me." He smiled suggestively and for once she held his gaze, although she was finding it difficult. He could sense her discomfort and felt a sense of satisfaction at the thought that he was the cause. He pushed her a bit further, tempted to see how long it would take her to snap. "Instead you seemed surprisingly agreeable to the idea. Maybe you just can't stand the fact that you like the dark side in me." She flushed, but didn't look away. Draco moved even closer, and whispered in her ear, the position far too similar for Hermione's comfort to the one they had been in earlier that day. "You weren't exactly kicking me out of bed this morning, either."

888

A quick look around the room did not give McGonagall any suggestion that things may be getting out of hand, so she called the students together. She didn't notice that Hermione and Draco had failed to respond to her command. Indeed, she could barely see them, and had no reason not to assume that they were part of the crowd. "Students, as I cannot possibly supervise all of you fighting at the same time, we will have one couple at a time. Mr. Nott, Miss Lestrange, would the two of you make your way up onto the platform please." They did so, and began a rather tame battle which the spectators watched unenthusiastically.

McGonagall was concentrating on the Slytherin pairing on stage, and didn't see the fight still going on in the corner of the room. Lestrange threw Nott across the platform with the Everte Statum curse, and Nott began rolling around in pain. McGonagall sighed. "Really, I always said that this duelling club was a bad idea. How many more students can we injure this evening, I wonder?" She turned to the spectators, still not perceiving any problems with the crowd. "Everyone, I must take Mr. Nott to the hospital wing. No misbehaving. If I see any one of you with your wand out there will be deep trouble."

With that she swept out of the room, Nott limping along beside her. Neither Draco nor Hermione cared that the woman had spoken – it was doubtful whether they were even aware of anything other than their opponent. When Draco reminded her that she had been willing to kiss him again that morning she stepped back, stung by the memory. "Well you don't need to worry. I certainly won't be making that mistake again."

Draco laughed again. "As if you'd get a chance to. One night is all you're getting with me, love. Any more than that might taint me beyond repair."

With a cry of rage Hermione sent a shot of red at Draco, who barely managed to put up a shield in time. The shot ripped his robes leaving a nasty cut on his chest, and he responded with a similar spell which slashed across Hermione's arm.

At Hermione's shout the students had turned and finally noticed the ongoing fight. A group of Slytherins and Gryffindors were now cheering on their respective fighters, as Hermione and Draco began throwing spells at each other with a growing momentum. The Ravenclaws were gathering around the fight, discussing the various spells and their origins, as none of which were standard issue, while the Hufflepuffs were mostly hanging back looking nervous. No-one considered going for a teacher; the fight was far too entertaining to end it.

Ron looked over at Harry, his eyes shining. "Wow! I guess Hermione is more laid-back than we thought. Look at her!"

"Laid-back? She doesn't exactly look that way to me. I've never seen someone look more intense." But Harry looked just as animated at the sight of Hermione giving Draco such a difficult time. Snape had been right when he said that the two were well matched in a duel, and with Draco's extra training from Lucius and Hermione's zeal for studying, both had the power to make it a remarkable fight. There was a sense among the students that both of them were holding back just enough to avoid doing any serious damage and everyone was eager to see what would happen next. Any hint of a smirk was gone from Draco's expression now, and it was taking every ounce of concentration from both sides to protect themselves.

"Guess that'll teach us to say she's stuck-up. She's destroying him. Look, he can hardly stand." Ron grinned and shouted out, "you show him, Hermione!"

The shout broke Draco's attention and for a second he glanced at the source of the noise. Hermione took her chance, raised her wand and shouted, making him whip back round to face her. "Impotus!" He had heard the spell before and knew well enough to make sure he deflected it in good time. The curse hit Crabbe, who fell to the floor clutching his groin in pain. The duelling duo ignored him.

Draco turned on Hermione, equally pissed off. "Relashio," he shouted, and Hermione managed to only weaken the spell, which tore her robes further, but not her skin this time.

"Gypsum," she shouted. Draco deftly reflected the girl's hex, but she equally skilfully shielded herself from it. Suddenly, everything that had been said between them since last night flashed through her mind, and her eyes narrowed. She pointed her wand and, with a flourish, muttered the curse, "spasmodia."

Nobody knew the spell and Draco had to think fast to find the right counter for it. That hesitation was just a little too much, and he didn't block in time. He fell to the floor clutching his legs in pain, and there was a cheer from the Gryffindor spectators. Hermione had turned to give her housemates a triumphant smile and, revelling in the attention, decided that maybe being a rebel wasn't so bad after all. She caught Harry's eye and grinned, when Draco held up his wand and forced a word from his lips. "Incendus." Hermione's expression turned to one of shock and then she let out a truly frightening scream before collapsing onto her knees and clutching at her robes as if trying to claw them off. The respective friends moved quickly to tend to the fallen fighters – Pansy Parkinson was fawning over Draco who was whimpering in pain, and Harry had rushed to Hermione the second she went down.

None of them gave a second thought to McGonagall until an ominous voice sounded, infused with rage. "Would someone mind telling me precisely what is going on here?" The crowd quickly lost interest and almost all student disappeared. Only sixth form Slytherins and Gryffindors were left, speaking loud and fast and trying to get their excuses over to McGonagall, while Draco and Hermione had both turned rather pale, and appeared unable to speak at all. The moment McGonagall saw the two students her eyes turned to pure fury. "Silence!" A hush fell over the students, who backed away slowly. Few had ever seen McGonagall like this, and they were exchanging nervous looks. "Mr. Malfoy, can you walk?" She was given no response, as all Draco's energy was focused on his legs. The professor sighed. "Mr. Potter, please levitate him to the hospital wing. I shall carry Hermione." Her gaze fell on Crabbe, who was still looking pained, and she groaned. "Mr. Crabbe, follow behind. The rest of you, disperse. I will be speaking to all of you about this, but for now there are more important matters." They all stood there, looking a little sheepish, and McGonagall frowned sharply. "10 points from every person here for not coming to find a teacher, and be glad it isn't more. Leave!"


	4. Power and Potions

Chapter Four

Power And Potions

Snape had looked up in surprise when McGonagall entered with Nott in tow, and sneered when he realised what had happened. "Couldn't even prevent injury with just the one duel going, Minerva?"

The older teacher just scowled and guided Nott to a spare bed. As soon as he was settled, she turned to the other professor. "Severus, I'm going to go back and tell the students to get to their common rooms. I think we both agree that it would be foolish for the club to continue tonight, yes?" Snape inclined his head in agreement, and she stood up. "You'll stay with Nott until Madam Pomfrey comes to deal with him?" Snape looked as though he was considering argument, but decided against it. He nodded curtly and Professor McGonagall swept out of the medical wing.

Snape sat stiffly in one of the chairs that Madam Pomfrey kept by the beds and looked at Nott who was staring sullenly up at the ceiling. With a sigh he leant back in the chair, a little bored. The doors at the entrance suddenly banged open with a surprising ferocity and he looked up to see McGonagall again entering the hospital wing with wounded in tow. In seconds he took in the bushy-haired girl in her arms, the blonde being hovered along behind her, and Crabbe, limping in holding his groin and whining softly. He was on his feet in an instant. "What happened here?"

"Just find Madam Pomfrey, please Severus." The fatigue was obvious in the woman's eyes, so Snape decided not to push her for now. He left the room quickly, and McGonagall placed Hermione gently on the bed, indicating to Harry to do the same with Draco. In spite of the horrendous pain in his legs, Draco's eyes were flashing at the idea of Harry having got him to the infirmary. Crabbe was given no help, and climbed up onto a bed, flinching a little as he sat down.

Madam Pomfrey hurried in, tutting and sighing like a mother hen. "Why do they have these duels, honestly? Six injuries in less than an hour. It's just ridiculous. Neville, dear, you're OK to go now." He nodded and slipped off the bed gratefully. He hesitated next to Harry who nodded for him to go back to the common room. Madam Pomfrey looked from one to the other. "Can anyone tell me which curses these three children have been hit with?"

Harry, who had been hovering hesitantly in the doorway, nervously stepped forward. "Go away, Potter. No sane person would take your word for anything," Snape spat out.

"Would you prefer we get a Slytherin in to testify? Cunning and deceit are celebrated in your house, are they not?" McGonagall turned to glare at Snape, who looked like he was considering using his wand.

"For goodness sake, you two." At the sound of her voice both frowned sharply at the angry healer, but Madam Pomfrey was not to be interrupted. "Take a look at the children that you have brought in. Look at them." She pushed them both round to look at the students. It wasn't a pleasant sight. Draco had curled herself into the foetal position and was crying softly staring blankly at a spot on the wall in front of him, and Hermione was drifting in and out of consciousness, too weak even to cry. The teachers took in their students and, suitably chastised, turned back to Madam Pomfrey, whose voice became gentler now that they had stopped arguing. "Severus, Minerva, if there is anything we have learned today it is that house rivalry is dangerous. That is the same whether between student and student, teacher and teacher, or teacher and student. We can talk about truth and stories later, but for now I need to know how to cure these children. Their health is the first priority for me. Mr. Potter?"

Harry, who had stepped back again during this speech, uncomfortable with seeing his teachers told off, now stepped forward once more. "Crabbe got hit first, Madam. The impotus curse." He winced as he said it, well aware of what it was. Even Snape shot the big boy a semi-sympathetic look.

The medi-witch turned briskly to her cabinet. "Well that's OK. I know it hurts terribly at the moment, boy, but I doubt lasting damage has been done." She carried two potions over to the bedside. "Pain relief and sleeping potion should do the trick, and you'll be OK by tomorrow. How strong was the curse, Harry?"

"I'm not sure. It was Hermione's, and she looked pretty pissed off when she used it. Sorry Madam, I mean annoyed. But it was aimed at Draco and he deflected it. That should make it softer, yeah?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Yes, you should be absolutely fine Mr. Crabbe. I'll just keep you in for now." She turned to smile at the boy, but found he had already gulped down both potions and was fast asleep on top of the covers. "Oh dear. Severus, would you help me with him?" Snape nodded and got his wand out. "Now, Harry, what of the other two children? Who was hit first?"

"Well they were both fighting pretty hard." Harry hesitated, reluctant to tell the truth. But a surreptitious glance at Snape told him that honesty was probably best at this point. "Malfoy was, Madam. Hermione hit him with something I've not heard of before. It was a stream of harsh red light that kind of whipped itself around his legs before disappearing. I think the incantation was - Spasmodia?"

Snape looked up sharply, regarding Hermione with an inquisitive look, and Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed. Madam Pomfrey was at Draco's side in an instant. "Oh dear me. That will certainly need more than a few days recuperation. If he has been hit by the Spasmodia curse he won't be able to drink any potions to relieve the pain. A clever witch, that Hermione." Here, Snape coughed irritably, and Madam Pomfrey began to bustle again. "Disgraceful, of course, but it is a very advanced spell." She attempted to pull Draco's hands away from his legs, but he wasn't letting go. She looked down at him compassionately. "Mr. Malfoy, I understand that it hurts at the moment, but you have to let me help you. It will only worsen the longer it is left untreated, child." This time he let her at his legs and she took the paste that McGonagall had got from the cupboard, then began applying it to the boy's tender legs. "This will sting a little, but it is necessary to alleviate the damage caused. If it is not treated it could well spread to your upper torso and arms." She released his legs and Draco immediately rolled over and vomited. Unfazed, Madam Pomfrey scourgified the mess and stroked Draco's hair. "I know it's bad now, Mr. Malfoy, but it will get better, I promise. In a couple of days, when it has died down a bit, you can have some potions for the pain, and to help you sleep. For now I'm afraid you'll just have to bear it as best you can." She turned to Harry once more, waiting for him to continue.

"Right. Well she hit him and then he hit her with something called Incendus. I've never heard of it, but it made Hermione scream horribly." He shivered, remembering that sound. "Then she just fell to the ground panting." It seemed that if Spasmodia was a bad spell to use, Incendus was worse. McGonagall looked shocked, Madam Pomfrey was worried, and even Snape looked somewhat concerned. Harry looked from one to the other. "What's wrong? Is she going to be OK? Help her!"

Madam Pomfrey turned to Professor McGonagall. "Take Harry away and calm him down, please. Severus, I will need a potion brewed immediately."

Severus nodded brusquely. "I know. I'll go now. It will be ready by early tomorrow morning."

"Hopefully since he was nowhere near full strength himself, this will not be as serious as it seems at this moment."

Professor Snape hurried out of the large hospital wing, straight into McGonagall who was attempting to soothe Harry. He ignored the 17-year-old's tantrum and moved swiftly to the dungeons. "There is nothing you can do for her except wait, Harry. You must understand that."

"No, I can't. There's got to be something I can do."

"There is nothing. I know that it is hard for you to hear that, but you have to accept it, Harry. We are going to your common room, Harry, where you will go to sleep. Tomorrow morning you may get up and see your friend first thing. Until then, you will not help her by standing here and arguing. You must go and reassure Hermione's friends that she will be alright. And she will be alright, Harry, I promise you that. Madam Pomfrey is an esteemed medi-witch, and Snape a master of potions. Come on now." She was well aware that it would be better for him to be among friends than to let him sit and brood on his own.

888

Harry was besieged with questions as soon as he stepped into the common room, but McGonagall waved them off. "Please, give Harry some space." She pushed him over to where Ron, Ginny and Neville were sitting, features wrought with worry. When the students transferred their attention to McGonagall she put her hands up to silence them, then spoke. "Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Crabbe will all be fine after they have had time to recuperate. Still, I ask that for now you do not go down to the hospital wing as they all need to rest. There really is no need to worry." She ignored all further questions and made her way over to the small group that were Hermione's closest friends.

"Professor, what's really wrong with her? We won't sleep tonight unless we know."

Professor McGonagall regarded Ginny's solemn expression thoughtfully then nodded. "OK, you're all mature students, and I appreciate your concerns. Miss Granger really will be fine as soon as she has had the potion that Professor Snape is making up for her. The Incendus curse is not quite dark magic, but it's close to it. It works very slowly, which is why we're don't have concerns about Hermione's health failing. It takes more than a week to actually kill the victim." The four friends watched her with alarm. It seemed none of them had actually considered the possibility of Hermione dying. McGonagall noticed this and put her hand out to calm them. "Really, that's a god thing. It means there is time for Hermione to recover fully."

When McGonagall paused for them to ask questions, Ginny spoke again. "But what does it actually do? I mean, what's happening to Hermione right now? Is it hurting her?"

"The Incendus curse slowly but surely speeds up the heart-rate. There is some discomfort, but the victim is usually unconscious before they feel too much pain." The professor was telling them the facts as if she were giving a lecture, in the hope of distancing them from the situation. "Ultimately the patient dies from something akin to a heart-attack, when the heart-rate is faster than the body can cope with. The potion that Professor Snape is working on will restore her body to normal, but it takes time to make. It will be ready, though, by tomorrow, and I promise you that Hermione will be as good as ever and back to classes by next week." She smiled reassuringly as she stood up to leave.

"Professor." She paused and turned back to the students, and nodded for Harry to continue. "Why did she – I mean, that scream…" Even Neville and Ginny, who hadn't been present, looked unnerved at the thought of that sound, and Harry shuddered again.

The woman sighed as if she had wanted to avoid giving them this information. "It –" she hesitated again. "A by-product of the curse is the feeling that the skin is on fire. It's caused by the sudden increase in blood pumping around the body, and does generally make the victim scream. It is believed to be the sudden shock that causes the scream, though, and does not necessarily mean that Hermione felt a lot of pain." She paused, then studied each face in turn. "I trust you not to tell your classmates about the curse. We are attempting to avoid upsetting people unnecessarily."

She made her way to the portrait hole without saying anything further, and glanced over her shoulder at the friends before leaving. Harry had his arms around Ginny, who was resting her head on his chest. Neville was running his hands through his hair and over his face compulsively. And Ron, worryingly, hadn't moved. He was staring into the fire, unblinking, as if he hadn't noticed anyone around him. Professor McGonagall sighed as she left the common room, hoping that she had done the right thing.

888

Snape proceeded directly from the hospital wing to the dungeons and began gathering ingredients. He knew that the girl would be at no true risk once she had the potion, but that did not slow him down. With a point of his wand he lit the fire underneath the nearest cauldron, and flicked through a book until he found the right potion. Although certain of his own skills, he knew it could be life-threatening if he made any mistakes. He muttered to himself as he worked swiftly, occasionally checking in the book for confirmation.

Three difficult hours later the first part of the potion had been almost completed. It would be a long night, he was prepared for that. What he wasn't prepared for was a knock on his door at 11 pm. "Enter." He looked up and was not surprised to see Harry standing in front of him. "Potter." He spat the word out. "What on earth do you want?"

"Sir, I can't sleep, and --"

"And what? Looking for some sleeping potion, are you? I'm afraid I'm a little busy saving your little friend Miss Granger at the moment."

"I know, sir. Professor McGonagall told us about the potion. I want to help."

"You," he sneered, "would probably ruin it all. Want to see a dead little girl, do you?"

To his credit, Harry didn't respond to the jibe. He took a deep breath and continued putting his case. "Sir, I can't sleep knowing that Hermione is in danger. And I was almost top in potions in my OWLs. I went to the library and found out about this potion. _'It is always easier and quicker when brewed by more than one person,'_" he quoted triumphantly, knowing that Snape couldn't argue with him there.

The professor glowered a little then appeared to relent. "Fine. The book is on my desk. This first section just needs finishing off, which even your small mind should be able to manage. I will get on with the second, which is the most complex. When you are finished you may prepare the ingredients for the third and final part of the potion. Do not speak unless absolutely necessary. And remember, you get this wrong, your friend may die." There was a pause. "Just to motivate you, Potter." Relieved, Harry took the opportunity to do something constructive and didn't allow himself to be put off by Snape's snide comments.

Minutes changed to hours, and Harry and Snape worked side by side in a way James and Lily Potter would never have believed possible. It was just gone three am, and they were about to mix the three potions that they had made. According to Snape it was important that they were mixed in exactly the right proportions, and he wouldn't entrust the task to Harry.

Conversation had been kept to a minimum with no small talk, of course, yet Harry couldn't help feeling a little softer towards Snape. He could have sworn that the potions master was a little concerned about Hermione's well-being himself. Harry was not to know that Snape was showing a side of himself rarely seen – it was true that Snape had barely a compassionate bone in his body, but he would not allow his dislike of any student to disrupt his work to save them. The students at Hogwarts had not seen this since the incident with the basilisk, four years ago. "Don't daydream, Potter, or we'll never get this done. I need you to stir as I pour these elements in." Harry snapped back to the situation at hand, and began stirring the potion diligently.

As the last section was poured in it turned a foul green colour and began to smell. Snape glanced at it and then noted Harry's reaction. "Yes, well not everything in life can be puppy-dogs and roses, Potter. Deal with the smell." He got a flask and poured in some of the vile potion. "Come along. If you want to feed this to your precious Miss Granger, we may as well get it done sooner rather than later." He did, however, take a vial of pink liquid down from the shelf before they left and put a few drops into the flask. Harry noticed with a small smile that the potion now smelt nowhere near as unpleasant.


	5. The Notoriety Of Miss Hermione Granger

Chapter Five

The Notoriety of Miss Hermione Granger

Hermione's eyes drifted open and she saw her two best friends looking anxiously down at her. They looked into her open eyes disbelievingly, and Ron gripped the edge of his chair. "Hermione? Are you really awake?"

She grinned, although it was painful to do so. "I would have thought that would have been obvious, Ron." Her throat was raw and her voice was hoarse, but it was music to their ears. Harry jumped up and called into Madam Pomfrey's office.

"Madam, Madam Pomfrey, come here quick. Hermione's awake." The witch bustled into the infirmary from her office and tutted at the boys. She was, however, glad to see that for the first time since Hermione had been brought in, the haunted look had left Ron's eyes.

"Quiet, now. There are sick people here, remember." But her reprimand didn't hold much power, since she was smiling widely as she gave it. "Now, Miss Granger, how are you feeling?"

Hermione reached over to the cabinet beside her bed and poured herself a glass of water to soothe her throat. "Alright, I suppose. Strangely rested. Also kind of hungry."

The boys grinned at that and Madam Pomfrey smiled down at her indulgently. "I'm not surprised at that, Miss Granger. You have been asleep for almost three days. I've had to kick these two out three times because they were past curfew. They just wouldn't listen to me when I said it was going to by Monday morning at the earliest that you came around."

"Three days? What about my classes? Harry, did you get my homework for me? Can I see your notes? I have to see the teachers to find out what I missed!" Madam Pomfrey saw with alarm that Hermione was trying to push the covers off the bed so she could get up.

"Miss Granger, stop that immediately." Harry and Ron exchanged grins when they saw that their friend was so eager to sort out her studies, and Madam Pomfrey frowned. "And you two can stop looking so amused as well." They attempted to look chastised although they still looked faintly amused. "Miss Granger, you must not get out of bed for some time yet. You are far too weak to stand. And I expressly forbid any homework until you are out of the infirmary."

Hermione went pale at that and settled down immediately, hoping to appease the mediwitch. "What happened?"

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips together disapprovingly at this point. "You were duelling with Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, when he hit you with a highly dangerous curse. Professor Snape and Mr. Potter brewed a healing potion for you and we gave it to you very early on Saturday morning. That slowed your breathing and heart rate right down. If it had been left for another day you may well have suffered permanent damage, but we had two very clever men working to save you. Since then you have been asleep – a side effect of the potion. A very useful one, some might say, as it does mean you wake up actually feeling like you've had a nice relaxing sleep. Let me just check you over." Hermione lay back on the pillows feeling rested, and within minutes, Madam Pomfrey pronounced Hermione well on her way to recovery. "But I must insist that you stay in bed until I inform you otherwise," she said sternly. With that she hurried back into her office to write medical reports and complete some paperwork.

"Ron, Harry, you've got to sneak my homework in somehow. We've got our end-of-year exams in less than nine months. Do you realise that if I get behind now I may never catch up, and then I'll fail my NEWTs?"

The boys groaned and raised their eyebrows. "Hermione, the whole point of being ill is to get as many days of as possible. Don't you realize that?" She looked as though she were about to interrupt and Ron continued, "Madam Pomfrey forbid it anyway, and you know how fierce she can be."

"Yeah, you'll catch up easily, Hermione," Harry added.

Hermione frowned. "I don't think you two realise how important school work is in life."

"Oh, Hermione that reminds me…" Ron looked very uncomfortable.

She pulled herself up to a sitting position and looked at each of them enquiringly. "Yes?" she prompted, when neither of them spoke. "What is it?"

"ProfessorDumbledorewantstoseeyouandMalfoyinhisofficeassoonasyou'reout."

"I'm sorry Ron, but I didn't quite catch that."

Ron just looked down at his shoes and blushed, and Harry was no help, so Draco spoke up. "Dumbledore wants us to see him as soon as we're recovered. For our punishment." The other two nodded miserably when she looked to them for confirmation.

"OK, that's fair enough. I deserve to be told off. I did break the rules, after all."

Ron and Harry looked at each other, at Draco, and then sat down to speak secretively to Hermione. "Herm, why did you break the rules? It wasn't because of what me and Harry said before, was it? You know, about you being boring and – well, you know." She quickly assured him that it had nothing to do with that, and Ron spoke again, even more quiet. "Well, what then? What did the ferret say to make you so angry?"

"I can hear every word, you know. Honestly Weasel, you whisper as well as you fly." He sneered at them and Ron blushed red in rage.

"Shut it, Malfoy." Hermione had still not forgotten to be very angry at the blonde boy, but she was glad for the distraction he had provided for Harry and Ron. She didn't feel up to explaining her actions just then. She smiled, sickly sweet, at Draco. "How are your legs, by the way?"

His eyes narrowed. "That was a nasty spell, bitch." She laughed and tossed her hair. "Mine was better, of course. But then it's not the only way to make you pant, is it Granger?"

Hermione flushed bright red but luckily, once they understood his meaning, Ron and Harry were too busy defending her virtue to notice. "Oh get a grip, Malfoy, you're dreaming. She'd have to be insane or mightily twisted to ever do that with you." Hermione turned an even darker shade of red and avoided looking at either of them. Draco glanced down at her, raised one eyebrow and gave her a meaningful smirk.

"Speaking of spells, Harry, tell Hermione the story about Malfoy crying like a little girl when Harry levitated him into the hospital wing." Ron was speaking to Harry, but glaring at Draco, who narrowed his eyes at that reminder.

Harry grinned, the seriousness of the situation back then forgotten. "Your spell completely took him out. McGonagall got me to levitate him down here, and he was sobbing into his pillow, clutching his legs like they were about to fall off." He shot a nasty look at Draco. "Weren't so sarcastic then, were you Malfoy? Your spell might have nearly killed Hermione, but hers caused you a hell of a lot more pain." Draco turned slightly pink at the reminder, and considered them all carefully before speaking.

"You want to be careful what you say to me, Potter. How do you know that I don't know other, more permanent curses? Do you really want to risk it?"

Harry had his wand out in record time, pointed at Draco's neck. "You're not the only one with power, ferret. You want to test out mine? I've taken Voldemort out of action once and foiled his plans five times. You think I can't take on the bedridden son of a death eater?"

"Harry, Malfoy may be a little bastard but he's got more than he deserved already. You don't need to get in trouble as well as me." She looked as though she was going to say more, but Madam Pomfrey cut her off by bustling into the room carrying two trays of food. Hermione took the tray she handed her with thanks, eager to sample Hogwarts food once more.

Madam Pomfrey smiled at the boys who had, by now, put their wands away. "You two need to get off to lunch, and then to classes. As you can see, Miss Granger is well again, and you have no reason to stay here." She shooed them out of the room, then came back to her patients. "Mr. Malfoy, how are you feeling now?"

Draco frowned and looked down at his legs. "Better. Can I go now?"

The mediwitch approached him, her frown matching his. "I wouldn't have expected the Spasmodia curse to wear off so quickly. Do you really feel that much better?" She gently pulled the cover away and touched his leg softly, causing him to wince in pain. She looked knowingly at him. "I see. Mr. Malfoy, it's stronger to admit to a weakness than to try and beat it on your own." She moved to the cabinet and removed a pain relieving potion. She placed it on his tray and gave him a stern look. "I would like you to drink that now, please, so I can be assured that you have taken it." She watched as he tossed the potion down his throat, grimacing at the taste. "I would expect you can leave in a few days, Mr. Malfoy."

888

Meanwhile, the rumours about Draco and Hermione's duel were flying around the school. At first the spectators had remained fairly close to the truth, which had been interesting enough in itself, but by dinnertime that Monday the story had both Hermione and Draco using the avada kedavra curse and surviving.

Harry and Ron stayed silent, finding great amusement from the stories they were hearing. While they started on their second helping of pudding, a second year that neither of them knew was enthralling a small group of first years with his story. "After she deflected the killing curse Hermione Granger threw her wand to the side and just marched up to Malfoy and started beating him up. He couldn't move – she'd put some kind of bind on him."

"How did she do that, without a wand?" one of the first years asked, her eyes wide.

"She's learnt to do wandless magic of course," he said, looking annoyed at the interruption. "Our sixth years are some of the most talented defence students in the school. I heard that even Snape is too scared to take them on." The first years gasped at that, and didn't hear Ron's sarcastic snort. "So she beat him up until he started crying and then she just turned and everyone started cheering. But because she wasn't looking at him any more…" the second year paused for dramatic effect, and the first years waited with bated breath. "He was free again and he conjured a noose and threw it round her neck. But she cut through it like it was butter, of course."

"So how come she's in the hospital wing," a more sceptical boy asked.

"Well, all that wandless magic takes it out of you. She had to go there to regain her strength. And she survived a killing curse as well, remember. That's got to make you a bit tired." This time it was Harry who snorted, and the sixth years all looked away trying hard not to laugh. The first years and their story-teller didn't notice, they were too wrapped up in the tale. "And that's what really happened," he finished up, satisfied.

The sceptical boy looked at him doubtfully. "How do you know all of that then? You weren't even there."

"My big brother's a Ravenclaw seventh year. He told me all about it." As if that proved his story, the first years all started chattering animatedly about their famous Gryffindor sixth year – and for once, it wasn't Harry they were talking about.

Ron and Harry exchanged looks as the second year got up and moved away from the younger students. "Hermione's in for a shock when she gets out."

888

Hermione was blissfully unaware of what was going on outside the infirmary, she had far too much to contend with inside the room. Whenever Madam Pomfrey was out of earshot Draco had taken to reminding her of some of the more shocking things she had said to him in the room of requirement. "You know, for a mudblood you're really not bad in bed, Granger." Hermione was trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore the blonde in the bed beside her. "And some of the filth that was coming out of your mouth, I'll never forget it." He put on a high, gasping voice. "More, Draco, more. Harder, faster, fuck me, I'm coming." He smirked at her discomfort. "You really know how to get a guy's motor running, you know that?"

Finally, after more than a day of taunting she had cracked, and snatched her wand up from under her pillow. "You make another sound and I'll kill you right where you lay, you death eater bastard." For a moment Draco's face was expressionless, and then he grinned and let out another high pitched gasp. Hermione's face went red and she opened her mouth but at that moment Madam Pomfrey came in, saving Malfoy from a terrible fate at Hermione's hands. She stashed her wand under her pillow again and laid down, trying to look innocent.

"And how are my patients feeling today?" She noticed the tension in the room but decided not to mention it, since everything seemed in control now. "Mr. Malfoy, you haven't needed any pain potion for a day now; are you feeling any better?"

"Much. Can I please leave now?" He barked his request out so it sound like an order, and Madam Pomfrey tutted, and ran diagnostic checks on him.

"Well you seem cured, but stay here until I can get you a potion for this evening. Getting out of bed and being active again may make your legs play up a little, and you should still take a sleeping potion tonight, as well as a pain-reliever." Draco scowled at that, and the mediwitch moved to Hermione. "Miss Granger, I am fairly confident that you can also leave today. You've seemed fine for the past two days, and the observation period is now over." She ran the same checks on Hermione and nodded happily. "Yes, you can leave at half past five. But you must both go and see Professor Dumbledore before dinner."

888

Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape both looked furious when they met their students at the entrance to the headmaster's office. McGonagall let Hermione make her own way into the room, while Snape pulled Draco roughly up the steps behind them. Professors Snape and McGonagall each took a seat beside Dumbledore, leaving Draco and Hermione to stand in front of all three teachers. Dumbledore rested his chin on his hands and regarded them carefully before speaking. "Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, I must say I am surprised at both of you. Do either of you have any reason to offer me for such an outburst?" Hermione flushed and looked down at the floor and Draco stared defiantly at a point above the teachers' heads. Dumbledore knew that both, in their own ways, were feeling ashamed. "Miss Granger, I certainly would not expect such an outburst from you. Were you provoked, child?" Snape bristled at this implication that Draco was to blame, but said nothing.

Hermione still did not meet his eye, in spite of his kind tone. "No, sir. We were just showing off our skills. I was viewing the duel as an opportunity to practice my spells on someone who I knew could fight back. I just got lost in it, I hadn't even noticed that the others had stopped fighting, and I certainly didn't mean to use such a violent spell." Draco glanced over at Hermione in surprise. He had expected her to heap the blame onto him, and certainly hadn't expected a lie like that to come so easily to a Gryffindor. What was more, the teachers appeared to believe her.

Dumbledore nodded, and looked at Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, do you agree that this is the case?"

He had been ready to defend himself against Hermione's attack, ready to protest his innocence and her guilt, but her generosity had taken him by surprise. "Yes, of course. Professor Snape said that he was pairing us because we would challenge each other. I suppose my competitive drive kicked in when I saw that Hermione was really giving it everything."

The headmaster studied each of them, certain that there was something they weren't telling him. "This had nothing to do with house rivalry, then? It wasn't an opportunity to impress your peers and humiliate your enemies?"

Before Draco had a chance to defend them both, Hermione spoke up again. "Professor, it would be stupid for either one of us to begin, on the basis of house pride, a fight which would inevitably end in us losing house points. We really did just lose ourselves in the fight." Draco nodded at this, and Dumbledore sighed, having no option but to accept what they were saying as truth.

"Well Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape have spoken to your school-fellows, and no-one seems to know who started the duel or why, so I will accept your explanation. It is clear that Miss Granger, you threw the first serious curse – which you'll be glad to know Mr. Crabbe has recovered from – but that Mr. Malfoy, you certainly finished the fight. Nonetheless, I have discussed the matter of your punishment with both professors and we are in agreement that we cannot hold one of you responsible over the other. As such we are going to take 200 points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin, and you are each to serve two weeks of detention. We have already written to your parents." He smiled sadly at each of them. "Please think carefully before acting so rashly again. You're both lucky it wasn't worse. If one of you had suffered more dire conditions I can't say what would have happened" He nodded to Snape and McGonagall to take their students away.

One of the sterner looking portraits in the room looked up as the students left. "I think you should have expelled them both. I had a Malfoy when I was headmaster. Even three hundred years ago they weren't a nice family."

Professor Dumbledore sighed and settled back in his chair. "Yes, Stanford, but who knows what Draco could become if he were left to his father's care."

The man snorted and stroked the big painted dog who sat beside him. "The Malfoys will always be dark wizards, Dumbledore. You are foolish to have faith in the boy."

"Faith is all we have, Professor." He took a book from his bookcase and the subject was closed.

888

Hermione went back to the common room feeling very downhearted. She stepped through the portrait hole, intending to study until dinner, but was faced with a crowd of cheering Gryffindors. Ron and Harry were standing in the middle of the room, grinning widely. "We wanted to show our support for you, and our belief that the more Slytherins put into the hospital wing, the better," Ginny explained, shouting over the cheers. Hermione laughed, her bad mood lifting instantly. "We don't even care about the points, right Ron?" Hermione laughed even more at Ron's suddenly horrified face. "Well at least Slytherin lost points too," Ginny told her brother in comfort.

"Don't you all have homework to be getting on with?" Hermione asked with a smile.

Ginny gave her a look of mock-horror then hooked her arm with Hermione's. "It's good to have you back, Hermione."

Despite the fact that, after several action replays and retelling, the story of the duel had been exaggerated, distorted, and changed beyond belief, one thing was still clear – Hermione was the star of the day. When it was finally time for them to go down to dinner they had all eaten so many pastries and sweets that not one of them was hungry, but they all felt that they should at least make an appearance.

At dinner that evening it seemed that Hermione was the heroine of Hogwarts. She entered the great hall and every Gryffindor that she passed gave her a wink, a smile, or a nod of recognition. Even the Hufflpuffs and Ravenclaws seemed rather impressed with her. Harry grinned at her as she sat down. "It wasn't just Gryffindor that heard about you almost killing Draco, if you hadn't guessed."

"I didn't almost kill him. I just destroyed the nerve endings in his legs." She grinned, and several young Gryffindors looked up at her in amazement, while her classmates laughed with her.

"Well, it makes a change from them all being terrified of me, I suppose," Harry mused when he noticed the first years craning to get a better look of Hermione.

Her attention was caught by a tiny first year girl come up and stand behind Ron. "Excuse me, but my friends and I were wondering if it was true that you made a Slytherin unconscious last week, and if it is then could you teach us how you did it?"

Ron snorted and Hermione shot him a deadly glare before smiling up at the eleven-year-old. "I don't think that the teachers would be too happy if I helped you hurt your school friends, I'm afraid. And I didn't make him unconscious; I just hurt him a lot."

The girl stared at her wide-eyed, mouth open, for at least a minute, before running back to her friends to tell them more about the incredibly cool witch in the sixth year. Ron and Harry burst out laughing as soon as the girl left, and Harry hit her playfully on the arm. "Come on, Herm, admit it. Being notorious is just a little bit fun, right?"

"Not at all. It's horrible, everyone staring at me and talking about me like this." Just at that moment a particularly sexy seventh year Ravenclaw who had never spoken to Hermione caught her eye and winked. Hermione blushed and turned back to Ron and Harry. "Well maybe just a little bit." She got out of her seat. "But it does have its drawbacks. Detention with Filch in five minutes," she explained, glancing at her watch.

888

Meanwhile, Draco was regaling his housemates with elaborate tales of how he would have killed Hermione if the potion hadn't been made in time, but kept getting cut off mid-flow by little brats from all houses giggling every time they passed him. In the end he got so annoyed that he pulled his wand out and pointed it at a red-headed Slytherin first year. "You interrupt me one more time and you'll know what the crucio curse feels like, insect." The girl looked suddenly fearful and ran to the other end of the table. But at least the little kids stopped bothering him after that. And this was all because of the stupid mudblood. If she hadn't had started cursing him in duelling club then he wouldn't have had to curse her back and it would never have got out of control. And now they had the stupid detention with Filch on top of everything else. At least he didn't get suspended. He decided to write his father a letter home that focused on the pain he had caused Hermione, before he heard any other version. Luckily, he knew that Lucius wouldn't listen to a word that Dumbledore said. He saw Hermione get up and leave the hall and knew it must be time for his detention. Sighing, he followed her towards Filch's office.


	6. Detention, Detention, Detention

Chapter Six

Detention, Detention, Detention

Hermione and Draco didn't even glance at each other when they entered Filch's office that night. She still couldn't believe that he'd had the audacity to call her a mudblood, just hours after they'd had sex, and he was still infuriated that she had made him the subject of the school's ridicule. Filch sneered at them both when they entered. "Yes, I heard about you two. Practically killed each other, I heard." They made no response, and he shook his head. "If only they let me use the old methods, neither of you would have dared break the rules. Still, I suppose I can't complain this time – you'd have been doing me a favour if either of you have succeeded. The fewer students around the better, I say." No matter how he tried, Filch had no talent for intimidating the older students, particularly the ones who knew he was a squib, so his speech had very little effect on either of the adolescents sitting before him. Draco looked almost amused at the thought of Filch trying to hurt them. The caretaker scowled, unhappy with this poor response, and sat down at his desk. "You are both to copy out that list of forbidden objects. Neatly, mind. You may as well be useful for something, and this way I can put reminders up for people who have forgotten the rules. Ignorance of the law was no defence in my day. And no matter how many ignorant students there are in this school, it shouldn't be a defence now either." Hermione and Draco both groaned inwardly at the prospect of an hour copying Filch's apparently unending list, each blaming the other for their situation.

Draco irritably swatted at an insect that had landed on his parchment, and scratched out another mistake, mentally ticking off all the reasons why Hermione was a bitch. Now back in the real world and away from the Crow Pub, he had no desire to sleep with her again. True, Magenta had been right when she had talked about still waters – who would have thought that bookish little Hermione would have been such a fantastic lay – and yes, the girl did have an amazing come-to-bed pout, but she was way too high maintenance. Who wanted to sleep with someone who would wake up and hate you? He preferred girls that begged him to stay, not ones that ran from the room as soon as they woke up. Prissy bitch, he thought, underlining a piece of parchment with a flourish.

Hermione worked in silence, watching the seconds tick by interminably and avoiding Draco's eyes like the plague. She made the mistake of glancing up at him once, and the sight of his blonde head provoked a flash-back that she would rather not have had. She was tearing her clothes off with reckless abandon, unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands through his hair as they kissed passionately. She was naked in the hot tub and sitting astride him. They were lying on the bed and exploring each other unashamedly. She cheeks felt hot, and she looked back down at her parchment before Draco noticed her watching him. She had been trying to prove to herself that she could be irresponsible and rash, if she wanted to be, and today she was being harshly reminded why she usually controlled herself so strictly.

Finally, not a moment before the second hand reached the 12 announcing that it was eight pm, they were allowed to go. They both snatched up their things and stormed out of the room without a word. Hermione stalked off to the Gryffindor common room, asking herself again what on earth had possessed her to sleep with the Slytherin bastard and vowing once more that she would never drink again. Draco went in the opposite direction, taking the last few days' events as proof that one should never fuck a mudblood.

888

Hermione woke up the next morning with a deep feeling of dread. She couldn't figure out why until she picked up her timetable to see that she had double potions first thing that day. That meant facing Draco, of course, but also Snape. Harry had told her about how he had worked through the night to save her, and she didn't enjoy the idea of feeling indebted to her potions teacher.

After breakfast, Ron waved them off to potions with a big grin. He never felt happier about giving up on his plans to become an auror than when he was reminded about how he no longer had to take Snape's class. Potions class was smaller now, and a lot more advanced, so Snape liked to have them all working on the front two benches where he could keep an eye on them. He scowled at the students as they entered the dungeon, seeming even more ferocious than usual. Harry and Hermione exchanged an uneasy glance when they saw his expression, and slipped behind the bench quietly, not wanting to antagonise the professor further. Harry winced and Hermione glanced at him in concern. "It's just my scar," he explained casually. "He's probably just heard a good joke or something," he added.

"You shouldn't be flippant about it Harry, it could be important –" she broke off as she noticed a flash of blonde in the corner of her eye, and saw Draco smirk at her before draping an arm around the shoulders of some unknown Slytherin girl. Her eyes narrowed and she wondered once again why she should care. Suddenly she realised that Harry was saying something to her, and she tore her attention away from Draco and his girl.

The potions class began with Professor Snape taking 10 points from a Ravenclaw for a slight crease in her homework, and barking at a Slytherin for making a noise when he put his bag on the floor. "Notice he didn't take points off though," Harry whispered bitterly to Hermione, and then immediately wished he hadn't, as Snape strode over to them, his face like thunder.

"What was that, Mr. Potter?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Nothing sir, I was just telling Hermione about what we did in class while she was in the hospital wing."

Snape's eyes narrowed and Hermione glanced at her friend in concern. "I hope, Mr. Potter, you do not expect me to go easy on you simply because your friend got herself into a little trouble and almost died."

Harry didn't notice Hermione's attempts to get his attention, and continued digging himself into a hole. "Really, sir, I was just explaining to her about the properties of himerra root. You know how Hermione hates to be behind, professor."

"Yes. She showed me how eager she was to catch up with her classes when she came to see me the day she got out of the hospital wing, and asked for the class notes; including those notes concerning the properties of himerra root." Harry flushed red when Snape, without any further conversation, took 30 points from Gryffindor. He frowned at his housemates apologetically, trying to ignore the smirks from the Slytherin corner.

Snape didn't improve much, and Gryffindor lost another 70 points in less than an hour. At the end of the lesson Harry left without so much as a word to anyone, and Hermione followed behind, trying to ignore the gleeful laughter of the Slytherins. Harry stalked along the corridor in silence until he was a safe distance from the classroom, then stopped abruptly and turned. "What the hell was all that about?" he exploded, taking his friend by surprise. "He took 15 points of Parvati for sneezing."

Hermione smiled faintly, hoping to calm Harry down. "Well just be grateful it's not hay-fever season yet." For a moment he looked as though he was about to fly into a rage with Hermione as well, but he lost the battle with himself and started laughing instead. Hermione breathed a barely audible sigh of relief, and hooked her arm through his. "I think we both know why he's doing this, anyway."

Harry gave her a questioning look. "I certainly don't have a clue. I swear, Hermione, last week I would have put money on the fact that he was actually worried about you. We stayed up all night making that potion."

"Come on, Harry, it's obvious. You know that man thrives on fear, and he's just trying to make sure you're as scared of him as ever. If he really was worried about me, and he knows you noticed that, then you won't be scared anymore, and the power will have shifted from him to you. He's probably expecting you to play up in his class or tell everyone that he isn't the hard-nosed bastard he makes himself out to be. He just wants to prove that actually, yeah, he is a bastard."

"Well it's not like I'd ever think of him as anything but a slimy git. He doesn't have to prove it to us further." Harry sounded more than a little disgruntled.

"Are you sure you're not just a little upset because, after you saw how anxious he was about me, you were half-expecting him to put flowers on his desk and smile at us all?" Harry snorted in disbelief, but a sneaky glance at his expression told Hermione that she probably wasn't that far off in her analysis of her friend.

888

Draco sat at the Slytherin table at dinner that evening, watching Hermione and remembering their conversation with Dumbledore. He still didn't understand why she had taken an equal amount of the blame. For some reason it was really bothering him that she had lied to save him, and he couldn't stop wondering why.

He followed her towards Filch's office after dinner, and once her idiot friends finally left her to go the rest of the way alone, he put his hand out to stop her from going any further. She turned, a smile on her face, until she saw who it was that had touched her. She practically snarled at him as she wrenched her arm out of his grip, and stalked down the corridor. Not to be put off, he pursued her. "Why'd you cover for me, Granger?"

She stopped walking and regarded him in annoyed confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"The other day, when Dumbledore called us up, I was expecting you to lay all the blame on me. And you know he'd believe you, because you're a Gryffindor."

Surprised, Hermione blinked, and thought about his question before replying. "But it wasn't your fault. I threw the first curse, and like McGonagall said, I took it up a level with the impotus curse. Like you say, I'm a Gryffindor." He raised his eyebrows in question, and she explained, "Gryffindor – noble and true, remember?"

He snorted in irritation. Of course, it made sense that she'd be gracious about it all. She was a typical Gryffindor, righteous and stupid. For some reason, the more he thought about it, the more ill-tempered he became. It seemed wrong that she took the blame so gallantly, It was just so… Gryffindor, he thought with a sneer. "So what about the lie? Very Slytherin of you, wouldn't you agree? I would have thought it goes against your nature to be so underhand."

She rolled her eyes. "You can look at it that way, if you want. Personally I feel rather decent about it. Now if there's nothing else, I can go, yes?" He looked at her blankly for a moment before remembering that he had started the conversation. Thrown off by her answers, he turned without another word, and opened the door to Filch's office with a bang.

Hermione followed him in and started work on her parchment immediately. She had found that the only way to avoid feeling embarrassed and guilty about that fateful night was to not think about it, and the only way to do that was to avoid all contact with Draco. The exchange they had just had certainly didn't help, and once again, against all her wishes, she was remembering the events in the Room of Requirement. _But why do I feel so self-conscious about it? _Two consenting adults had enjoyed a night together, and went their separate ways afterwards. What was there to be ashamed of about that? People do it all the time. _Did he only sleep with me so he would have something else to taunt me with? _No. Unless he was a damn good actor, he had wanted her that night just as much as she had wanted him. No question about that. But the next morning she had certainly given him the opportunity to use the night against her. It occurred to her that the more she allowed Draco to get to her, the more satisfying he would find the entire situation. _Power, _she realised with a jolt. Just like Snape was afraid that he had given Harry power over him when he let his guard down, she had given Draco power over her, not by the night itself, but by fretting about it afterwards. _Well, this whole situation is ridiculous, then. _She hadn't expected or even wanted anything more than one night, so it was time for her to stop feeling so damn vulnerable, and start taking the power back. She glanced up at him, and found that no mortifying flash-backs played in her mind. _Two consenting adults_, she thought to herself, with a satisfied nod.

888

The next afternoon Hermione made her way to Flich's office, feeling free for the first time since her night with Draco. Without a word they began working, and after twenty minutes, Filch stopped them. They both glanced at the clock in surprise, certain that the hour couldn't be up yet. He smirked at them both. "So sorry to get your hopes up," he said, his oily voice full of self-satisfaction, "but you don't get to leave just yet. I'm going to a meeting, and since you two have behaved yourselves well enough so far, the headmaster thinks it'll be OK to leave you alone." His expression clearly said that he didn't agree with this idea, but he said nothing further about it. He threw them a threat and then left them to their own devices. As soon as he had gone, Draco threw his parchment down in delight and got up to leave the room.

"Are you really sure that that's a good idea? He might come back." Hermione glanced at the door, almost expecting the old man to burst through it right then and catch them both not working.

He smirked at her. "Why, are you that keen for me to stay then, Granger? You want another go? You liked it on the desk last time, as I recall."

She laughed lightly and tossed her hair back. "I don't think so, but thanks all the same for the offer." He frowned at her change in attitude, and she smiled when she noticed the uncertainty flash across his features. She was in control of the situation. "I just don't think it'll be too good for you if Filch walks in and you're not here."

Draco quickly regained his composure. "He won't. But so what if he does? You'll cover for me."

Hermione grinned, her eyes bright and playful. "Will I, now?"

He wasn't sure quite how she had managed to get the upper hand in the situation, but he was feeling suddenly undermined, and didn't like it. "Well it is your fault that I'm in here in the first place, so I would say it's the least you can do."

"My fault? And how do you figure that one out?"

Draco laughed coldly. "Well, Miss I'm-Going-to-Try-and-Kill-You-so-You'd-Better-Start-Defending-Yourself Granger, I do believe that we wouldn't be here at all if you had just kept a hold of your anger. Isn't that what you said yesterday?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't have had any anger to keep hold of if you hadn't called me a mudblood and thrown me out of the room the morning after we got together."

"Oh, for God's sake, Granger; if you're doing it, you should at least be able to say it. And since we're playing the blame game, I wouldn't have been able to throw you out if you hadn't got blind drunk and gone up there with me."

Hermione felt her control of the situation slipping, as her anger threatened to resurface. "You challenged me to a drinking contest, you stupid little ferret."

"What, and Miss Know-It-All always has to win so it was unfair to challenge you? I wouldn't have been able to say anything at all if you hadn't been getting pissed in the pub in the first place. And why was that, by the way? You never did tell me."

"Oh, don't you dare try and pin this onto me, Malfoy. You were a bastard that morning, and you know you were."

"Yeah I do." Draco walked up close to her and roughly pulled her to him ignoring her futile struggling. "But come on Granger, admit it. You've never had more fun in your life than you've had this week, playing the righteous, wounded party. You were like an animal with me. They don't let you act like that, do they? Remember what it felt like to give in to that inner urge? Remember the freedom?" She glared at him and pushed him with all her strength against Filch's office door. "So that's all there is to the great Gryffindor, is it? You've got nothing to say so you resort to violence instead."

He was cut off by Hermione's lips on his, her hands tangling in his hair. After a moment's shocked pause he closed his eyes and kissed her back. Suddenly she pulled away and he saw the lust that was obvious in her eyes. "Not here," she muttered throatily. "Filch might come back."

Draco had his wand out in less than a second and performed locking and silencing charms on the door. "He's a squib. He won't be able to get through that." Power games forgotten by both of them, Draco pulled off Hermione's blouse and she ripped his shirt open violently. He lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his hips, one arm around his neck and the other reaching down to undo his trousers and bring him into her.

After the moment of shock had passed, Draco lifted one arm from around her waist to the back of her haid, pulling her closer and kissing her passionately, slowly moving his hips in sync with hers. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, grinding herself into him, their breathing getting faster together. As she rode him she kissed his neck, his chest, abandoning any pretence or inhibition she had left, and her desire was intoxicating.


	7. Dark Times

Chapter 7

Dark Times

Lying entwined on Filch's desk having satisfied their desires so completely, neither Draco nor Hermione was quite sure what to do next. They were aware that both of them had lost control so hopelessly, given in to urges that they were certain they would never give in to again, and it had been so unexpected that neither was quite sure how to react to the other. Hermione sat up first, pulling her blouse back on and putting a hand up to straighten her hair. She glanced down at Draco and smiled uncertainly. "Well, I guess we should be going then."

Now the after-glow was beginning to wear off, Draco was beginning to take in what had actually happened. A sober Hermione had wrapped her legs around him and ridden him to orgasm. She had done more than that, she had actually initiated it. He couldn't remember the last time any girl had done that. All the Slytherin girls he knew were so in awe of him that they would never have the guts to proposition him, and all the other girls tended to hate him. He was, quite honestly, completely taken aback. He finally sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the desk to stand up and pull his trousers on. "I guess so." He picked his shirt up and put it on, only then remembering that she had ripped it open. "You know any good sewing charms?" he asked her with a grin.

"Of course." She pulled him close to her and ran her wand-tip down his shirt, fixing it easily. She trailed her other hand down his chest, eyes following the movement of her wand. "I'll see you, then." She turned to gather up her parchment and quill from the floor.

"OK." He glanced at his watch. "Wow, we've been very conscientious today." At her questioning glance, he explained, "it's ten past eight. We've rewarded Dumbledore's trust by staying an extra 10 minutes," he grinned at her.

"Well, we are very hard-working," she agreed with a laugh. "But I really should be getting back to the common-room." She moved towards the door as she spoke, but paused before turning the door-knob. "See you later," she said, her smile holding a hint of lasciviousness. Draco watched her leave, and followed her out a few minutes later feeling smug and satisfied. He ran a hand through his messy hair realising that if they were going to make a regular thing of this, he should probably give up on slicking it back. Besides, he said to himself as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he looked good like that. You could say it was the just-fucked look, he thought with a smirk.

888

The knight was, once again, with the fat lady who looked down at Hermione when she said the password. "Ooh, someone's looking flushed. Haven't been getting up to anything naughty, have you dearie?"

"Voldemort," Hermione said distractedly, barely noticing the name.

"Alright, alright. No need to get defensive," the fat lady said with a shiver. She swung the portrait away from the entrance as she spoke and Hermione stepped in, winking at the fat lady.

"Don't worry. I've done nothing you wouldn't do." The fat lady giggled as the knight whispered something in her ear, and Hermione grinned, accepting that she wouldn't be getting over this second encounter any time soon.

She stepped through the portrait hole and looked around for her friends who weren't sitting by the fire in their usual spot. Alerted to that, she shivered as she noticed that the atmosphere in the common-room was unusually overwrought and tense. She looked from group to group for some explanation, but everyone studiously avoided her eyes. She marched over to where Seamus and Dean were absentmindedly playing wizards' chess in silence. "What's going on?"

Neville, sitting beside them and watching their game, nervously made eye-contact with Hermione. "Harry's hurt." Hermione felt a jolt of dread run through her at those words, and nodded worriedly for Neville to continue. "We think it was V-V- you know."

"When? Where is he?" she snapped.

"Dumbledore's office. McGonagall said we're not to go up there."

"Ron? Ginny?"

"They're up there. They were with him when V- when he attacked. Hermione, I don't think –"

He didn't get a chance to finish. Without another word, Hermione was back out of the portrait hole and running down the corridor. Thoughts were flying through her mind and she couldn't stop them. _While I was fucking the son of a death eater, Harry was attacked by Voldemort. _She felt sick. She arrived at the stone Gargoyle breathing heavily, praying that Dumbledore had been consistent with the password change. "Voldemort?" Obligingly, the stone Gargoyle opened up, and Hermione raced up the moving steps to Dumbledore's office, where Harry was sitting in an armchair by the fire, drinking something that Madam Pomfrey had given him. Dumbledore was speaking to Snape, who looked furious about something, and McGonagall seemed to be interrogating Ron and Ginny.

They all looked up at Hermione in surprise when she entered, the door banging behind her. McGonagall's expression of anger changed quickly to one of sympathy when she saw who was at the door. Dumbledore also looked on her kindly, and Snape glared at the fire, apparently irritated about being interrupted. Dumbledore was the first to regain his composure. "Minerva, pour Hermione a cup of tea." As he spoke, Dumbledore conjured a chair for her which she collapsed into gratefully.

No-one said anything for a moment, but waited for Hermione to speak. "What happened?" She was too worried at the moment to feel awkward, although she knew she had intruded on their meeting.

"I think it's best that you wait for an explanation until Harry is feeling a little better." Dumbledore smiled at her kindly. "I understand that you are concerned, but remember, you yourself were in the infirmary just last week, and you have come out perfectly unscathed. You will not help him by worrying," he insisted.

"Was it Voldemort?" she demanded fiercely.

Dumbledore shook his head. "But it was some of his followers."

McGonagall's lips were pursed. "Imagine, sending five death eaters to Hogwarts. He's getting far too confident, Dumbledore, and his powers must be growing. How on earth could they have got into the tower without even the fat lady knowing about it?"

"Minerva." Dumbledore's voice was soft, but his eyes held a sharp warning that said clearly, _not in front of the children_. "Ron, Ginny, you may go now. Hermione, go with them." He silenced their protests with a single gesture. "Return to your common-room and please try not to cause a panic."

As they left the office, they could hear McGonagall's voice echoing down the halls, magically magnified, telling all students to stay in their common-rooms until tomorrow morning. Once they were a safe distance from Dumbledore's office Ron and Ginny began to slow down. "I don't want to go back there, with all the questions and everything," Ginny began, and Ron nodded in agreement.

"Myrtle's bathroom?" Ron ventured, and Ginny and Hermione nodded thankfully at the suggestion.

888

They made their way covertly to the bathroom, and slipped in unnoticed. Myrtle giggled gleefully when she saw them, and hovered next to them with interest. Trying to ignore her presence, Ron sat down on the floor and, without any preamble, began the story. "Ginny and Harry were playing chess up in our room and Harry stopped because his scar was hurting. He'd mentioned it, but I figured it was just because you-know-who was angry or whatever. I mean, it's been happening loads recently, right?" Hermione nodded, thinking that Harry should have mentioned it. _But he had_, she realised, thinking back to potions class. He had told her that his scar was hurting and she'd been distracted by Draco. "So these guys suddenly pop out from nowhere, and start shooting curses at us. Of course we sent counter curses back, but Harry was rolling around on the ground and couldn't help, and two against five is hardly good odds. I took one out with a blasting curse and Ginny tried out that one you used against Malfoy, I think. I hope it was Malfoy Senior she hit. It would serve him right." Hermione's head jerked up in surprise.

"Lucius Malfoy was there?"

Ginny nodded. "They think it's likely, since the Death Eaters knew how to get into the castle. But we don't know for sure, because the ones that weren't injured just grabbed the fallen and ran. Jumped right out of the window and hit the ground running – I've never seen anything like it. The last one got a shot in at Harry before he left. We were still working on the others." She looked down at the floor miserably, reliving it in her mind.

Hermione was hopelessly trying to avoid the thought that had entered her mind. "So if I had been there…" she trailed off wretchedly.

"Herm, it's not your fault. If anything it's Malfoy's fault for getting you that bloody detention. I wouldn't be surprised if he drew you into that duel just so his dad would have a clean shot at Harry," Ron said vehemently. "Really Hermione, there was probably nothing more you could have done anyway, even if you had been there."

Hermione nodded reluctantly, her face pale and drawn. "When did all this happen?"

"I don't know. We went straight to Dumbledore's office with Harry. We had only been up there for five minutes or so when you came in."

If she hadn't stayed those extra ten minutes in Filch's office with Draco, they could have all been sitting together now, talking about their great victory. At that moment, the sick feeling that had been threatening to overwhelm Hermione did so, and she threw up into the nearest basin. Ron looked at Ginny helplessly, then walked awkwardly over to Hermione and tried to put his arm around her. She recoiled from his touch angrily. "Don't give me your sympathy." She splashed her face with water, then closed her eyes and rested her head on the cool porcelain of the basin. She felt disgusted with herself. Ron leaned against the wall near Hermione feeling ineffective and powerless in the face of his friend's misery. Ginny blinked away tears. She was thinking of potions ingredients, spell incantations, anything to force the memory of Harry lying limp and lifeless on the floor out of her mind.

They could have stayed like that forever, together, but totally alone.

888

"It is my job to know about the Dark Lord's plans, Minerva. If I cannot do that then what is this for?" He pulled his sleeve up angrily, and McGonagall flinched slightly at the sight of the dark mark displayed there. "You can't even bear to see it and I will wear it on my arm forever. Why is it there, what purpose have I, if not to protect the boy?"

Dumbledore rose from his chair. "It is no good torturing yourself about this my dear boy. You, more than anyone, should know that there will be no merit in that." Snape backed down a little, and Dumbledore placed a calming hand on his arm. "Perhaps we should take heart that you didn't know that this attack was coming. Perhaps this means it wasn't on Voldemort's orders."

"Don't be a fool, Albus. Everything is on his orders, you know that. The price of disobedience in case something goes wrong is simply too high." He looked up into Dumbledore's eyes, showing the older man the fear that Snape could hide so well. The headmaster nodded in understanding.

"Minerva, can you meet with the order and inform them of this, please?" McGonagall nodded and, with a handful of floo powder, stepped into the fireplace.

Once the fire had flared and she had disappeared, Dumbledore sat back down behind his desk wearily. "You know him best, Severus. What do you think he will do next?"

"He won't attack again so soon. If five Death Eaters weren't enough to kill the boy then he won't simply send more next time. He's too clever for that. I expect that even this attack required months of planning. But he will be angry that the attack failed. Someone will have to pay." He shuddered involuntarily at the thought. "Why did you lie to his friends?"

Dumbledore blinked at the sudden change of topic, and took an instant to realise that Snape was not referring to Voldemort's friends, but to Harry's. He spoke slowly, choosing his words with great care. "I do not believe that I did. I believe that Harry will not be permanently damaged by this attack."

"Will you tell them what you think Potter was hit with?"

Again, Dumbledore considered his answer carefully. "I have learnt much about what should be told to young people and what should not. I think this falls into the latter category. I am aware that the Defence Association is still active, and I know enough about those students to believe that they may well try to reproduce the curse, if they know what it is. I need not tell you how unwise that would be." Snape nodded, his eyes dark and foreboding. "It is not a weakness to care about these children Severus," Dumbledore said gently, after a pause. Snape stood up and stalked to the window without a word. "On the contrary, it is your greatest strength. Love, after all, is what has kept Harry Potter alive."

"Love is what killed his mother," Snape shot back, still glaring out of the window.

"Voldemort killed Lily Potter, Severus, not love."

"Ah yes, and what of the Dark Lord?" Snape turned and stared at the surprised headmaster, his eyes flashing. "Could this all-powerful love have saved him? Could it still save him? Don't tell me you actually believe that?"

"Love could perhaps have saved Tom Riddle," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "But I do not believe it can save Voldemort. Unfortunately I expect it is far too late for that. His soul is too greatly damaged." Snape sneered at that answer.

"You set too much store by such frivolous emotions, Albus. Love is impatient; love is unkind; it is jealous; it is boastful; it is proud. It is rude; it is self-seeking; it is easily angered; it bears grudges. Love does not delight in truth but rejoices in lies. It always harms, always doubts, always despairs, always gives up. Love always fails. It's time to put away childish things, Albus."

Pensively, Dumbledore nodded, watching Snape carefully. "That's a nice speech, Severus. But do you believe it?"

"So would you, if you had lived the life that I have lived. Every day and every night I live with the knowledge that I gave myself to Voldemort. I wasn't tricked, I wasn't taken; I chose that path. Can love overcome that? Can love destroy the mark on my arm?"

"Perhaps it could have prevented it." Pure confusion stopped Snape's rant, and suddenly the fight drained out of him. Without further explanation, Dumbledore asked, "did you love Lily?"

Defeated, Snape sank into a chair, his head in his hands. "I never said so."

"No," Dumbledore agreed. "You never said so. But did you love her?" Snape looked as though he was ferociously fighting something inside himself, and Dumbledore moved to put his arm around Snape's shoulders. Snape shied away from him, but the older man persisted and drew Snape to him. At that moment of contact something broke inside the wizard, and he started to sob into Dumbledore's arms.

888

There was a sudden crack as Ron punched the mirror above the sink, which shattered on contact. Hermione and Ginny leapt up and out of their private reveries to help him. "Sorry, sorry, just a little pent up frustration."

"Do you feel any better now?" Hermione was repairing what she could of the mirror with her wand as she spoke. Ron shook his head. "We should take you to Madam Pomfrey."

"No, she's busy with Harry. We shouldn't distract her."

"Ron –" Ginny broke off when she saw the determined look in his eyes. "Fine," she said with a sigh. "Come here and I'll do what I can." She took his hand gingerly and made him rinse it in warm water, then got her wand out.

Hermione put a hand out to stop her. "Let me." Ginny nodded, and Hermione pointed her wand at Ron's hand. A whispered spell helped the cut seal slightly. "It's not as good as a healer, though." She severed a piece of her robe and wound it tightly round his hand. "To stop the blood," she explained to them. "It helps to have a muggle background at times like this."

They stood together by the mirror, looking at each other, all thinking the same thing. "We may as well get back to the common-room." When they had left, Myrtle floated sorrowfully out of the tap, sniffling, quite overcome with worry about Harry, and a little frightened by the weight of emotion the others had shown in her bathroom.

888

In the common-room they didn't get the cross-examination they had been expecting. Their fellow students kept a respectful distance, and allowed them to sit in front of the fire without disturbing them. One by one the others went up to bed, until only Ginny and Ron and Hermione were left, staring into the fire until the early hours of the morning.

888

That night, everyone that could be spared from the Order sat up in the infirmary and watched over Harry as he slept.

888

Dumbledore held Snape until the younger man quietened and pulled away. Embarrassed by his show of emotion, his frailty, he didn't meet Dumbledore's eye but resumed his place by the window, staring into the sky as the sun came up. Dumbledore moved to stand beside him, watching the sunrise. "We are headed into dark times, Severus. Your ability to feel this deeply is all that keeps you from crashing." For once, Professor Snape didn't argue.


	8. Vixi Luctus

Chapter Eight

  
Vixi Luctus 

Hermione, Ginny and Ron woke early the next morning and, in silent agreement, made their way down to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey allowed them in without a word and they stood behind the members of the order keeping vigil over Harry. As soon as Molly saw them she clutched Ginny to her chest, and put an arm each around Ron and Hermione. It was a couple of hours later that Professor Dumbledore entered and murmured to the staff that they had to attend breakfast. "You too, children." For once not one of them objected to the term of endearment, and followed the teachers out of the room and into the Great Hall.

Professor Dumbledore glanced at Harry sorrowfully, then left him to the watchful eyes of Madam Pomfrey and the order. Outside the door he rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had stayed up all night with Snape and hadn't yet seen his bed. He readied himself for the announcement he had to make, and fought a losing battle to regain his trademark twinkle. The great hall was full of students talking in hushed voices, and Harry's seat was noticeably empty. The students and staff fell silent as the headmaster walked slowly up the aisle to the top table. They waited expectantly and he smiled faintly at them. "I thank you for your respect, and for your extreme sensitivity to the friends of Mr. Potter. Let me first assure you that the best staff from Mungos are on their way, and we have every hope that Mr. Potter will not only emerge from this healthy, but that he will suffer no lasting problems." It was as if a small gust of wind suddenly passed through the Great Hall as the students began whispering again. It seemed that no-one had actually imagined that Harry may be severely in danger, and the headmaster's words had merely served to increase their fears.

He raised his hand for silence which he received almost immediately. "You must trust that we have the situation under control and there is nothing to worry about. Yesterday the school was breached by five death eaters who attacked Mr. Potter when he was in the company of Mr. and Miss Weasley. Please be assured that ministry aurors are currently in the building, and will be working on strengthening and adding wards to the castle this afternoon. So that can be completed without complications classes are cancelled this afternoon, and you are all asked to return to your common rooms after lunch, and remain there for the remainder of the day. Letters are being written to your parents informing them of the attack and ensuring them that Hogwarts is the safest place for you to be." He regarded them all with concern. "Please believe me when I tell you that this is the safest place for you to be. We have survived five years of Voldemort in this second war and have suffered few casualties. The best thing that any of us can do at this time is go on with our lives as usual. The moment we allow fear to enter our hearts we allow Voldemort and his followers a victory over us. Stay strong and united and we will not only survive. We will win." He sat again, and the plates sparkled and were filled with food.

Conversations slowly started again, and the noise got greater as the meal went on. Harry's three closest friends remained silent and their classmates gave them room to be alone. Hermione looked up and caught sight of Draco's blonde head bent over his plate. She couldn't fight back the image of his eyes filled with lust as she lowered herself onto him, as she repaired his shirt and grinned at the Fat Lady on her way back to the common room, and she felt sick again knowing that all that time Harry had been fighting for his life. He looked up, feeling her eyes on him, and they connected for a brief moment before Hermione looked away in disgust. _How could you forget what he was? _She couldn't forgive herself for what she had done, and she couldn't get away from the fact that she could have prevented Harry's injury if only she had been there instead of in Filch's office. _You're selfish and despicable_, she told herself as she studied her full plate hopelessly.

888

They had tried to return to the infirmary after breakfast but McGonagall firmly told them that they were expected to attend their classes. When they looked ready to argue she had reminded them of Dumbledore's words at breakfast and they dispersed without further comment. Hermione and Ron struggled through transfiguration, although Professor McGonagall's mind wasn't really on the lesson either, and then their second class of the day was Defence. Professor Lexton entered on time to a full and quiet class. He walked to his desk and faced them, wand out. "Today we are moving on to a practical application of our advanced defence shields." They had been waiting for this for a long time, but now it seemed unimportant. Neville hesitantly raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Professor, would you tell us about the curse that was used on Harry please, sir?"

Lexton looked ready to deny Neville's request, but one look at the strained, pale faces told him that no-one would be able to concentrate on shields today. It was probably safer to do a theoretical lesson with them, and no-one could deny that it was an unnecessary lesson for them to learn, since the death eaters so clearly had knowledge of the curse. "Very well, Mr. Longbottom," he sighed, and turned to the blackboard. "The Vixi Luctus curse. It is very old, dark magic which requires a great deal of practice and power. The incantation required for it was thought to be lost hundreds of years ago which is why it isn't a forbidden curse, and let me assure you now that no matter how much research you do in the library or the restricted section you won't find out how to do it." Now, he looked intently at each one of them. "I would strongly advise you all never to attempt it, since the toll it takes on your soul is so great that you will probably never feel whole again. And, of course, it may not be a forbidden curse but you will still receive a lifetime in Azkaban for attempting it."

The class gasped as one, and Neville put up his hand again, shaking now. Professor Lexton called on him and he whispered, "but what does it do, professor?"

Lexton moved away from the blackboard and sat on the edge of his desk "The Vixi Luctus curse binds the victim in a form of constant grief. Rather like the effect that the Dementors have on us, the curse forces the victim to relive the most terrible pain they have ever suffered, or ever expect to suffer. The effects come on slowly. When the victim is first struck with the curse he will merely feel a little odd and upset, but it progresses. Within a couple of hours he will be living through his own personal hell and can't see any way out. He is in a coma but his mind is working overtime. The curse is potentially fatal because eventually the patient's mind can't cope with the emotion and refuses to keep working. It just shuts down. The victim simply loses the will to live." Here, Lexton hesitated, aware of the expressions of some of the students, and unsure if he should continue with the lesson. A Ravenclaw named Anthony put up his hand. "Yes, Mr. Goldstein?"

"Professor, you said it's only potentially fatal, but it sounds to me as though it must always be. How are they treating Harry?"

"Luckily, Mr. Goldstein, although the curse is complicated and serious, treated correctly it can be cured in a matter of weeks. The difficulty is catching it in time, and of course Professor Dumbledore was able to recognise instantly what Mr. Potter had been hit with. The key to curing the patient is to give him a special calming potion while he is still coherent and conscious, and Professor Snape was able to brew that in time, thanks to an ancient potions book the headmaster had in his office. The potion delays the effects of the curse so that the patient is put into a mild coma but the effects on the mind are greatly lessened. Then it is merely a matter of feeding the patient the potion at timed intervals. So you see Mr. Potter will be fine." 

The class breathed a collective sigh of relief, and Professor Lexton felt like he had done the right thing in explaining the curse to them. Ron's face was considerably less drawn than it had been moments ago, and Hermione was blinking away tears. There was a moment of silence as the class took that in, then Goldstein, looking doubtful, put his hand up again. "In that case, sir, why are wizards from Mungos coming?"

"Because, Mr. Goldstein, no-one has been the victim of this curse for several years. The staff at St. Mungos will want to monitor Mr. Potter closely to ensure that everything is proceeding as expected. And if the death eaters have used Vixi Luctus again, it is best that the healers are fully prepared for the future." He paused again, almost daring the students to ask another question, and when none came he turned back to the blackboard. "Before the lesson ends we will review the theory of advanced defence shields in preparation for next lesson."

888

Professor Dumbledore spent the morning in the infirmary. He had sent most of the order away, giving them tasks to keep their minds occupied while the aurors worked on their plans for the wards this afternoon. Now, only Molly Weasley remained by Harry's side. He was aware that Harry would be cured, that his words to the students earlier hadn't been empty comfort, but he still felt pain at watching the boy he viewed almost as a son lying helpless on the bed. Professor Snape entered shortly before lunch with a vial of potion, and Madam Pomfrey took it from him. She performed a swallowing charm on Harry as she poured the potion down his throat, then turned to the three adults beside her. "Come now, what's everyone just standing around looking like death for? We all now that Mr. Potter will be fine, so stop looking so upset and let's everyone get on with our jobs, yes?" The positive energy that Madam Pomfrey brought in with her did cheer the others a little, and she gently pushed Dumbledore towards the door. "Come on now, there are children out there that need to see you all out and about." All three of them obeyed Madam Pomfrey's orders, and Professor Dumbledore invited Molly to stay for lunch.

Once they had gone Madam Pomfrey sat beside Harry's bed and stroked his hair. "Come on now, child. When are you going to stop worrying us all like this? My hair's going to turn grey before long if you keep doing this." She smiled sadly. "You've gone through far too much for a boy your age, you know." She sighed, and performed her diagnostic checks on him. When they all came out satisfactorily she nodded to herself and returned to her office to await the arrival of the healers from St. Mungos.

Harry's eyes drifted open and he felt warm and safe, as if he was being cared for by everyone that was close to him. He tried to move his head but found that he couldn't, and the energy used in the attempt made him feel tired again. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep, a small, comfortable smile playing on his lips.

888

"I'm just going to the bathroom," Hermione told Ron and Ginny just before lunch. "Go on ahead; I'll catch up with you." She slipped into the girls' bathroom and splashed some cold water on her face. Sighing, she made an attempt to pull herself together before stepping back into the hallway. Almost immediately she was stopped by the one person she didn't want to see. "Step out of my way, Malfoy, before I do something we both regret."

Draco put his hands out in defence. "Granger, I don't want this to go on any longer than you do."

"Great, then you want it to end right now," she said, moving to push past him.

This time he didn't grab hold of her, he just watched her move away from him, before he spoke again. "I didn't know anything about the attack on Potter." Hermione stopped dead in her tracks but didn't turn round. "I don't know if my dad was involved or not, but I know what you think of me and it's not true. I'm not a death eater and I didn't know anything about the attack." He took a step towards her. "I swear, I don't have anything against Potter except for the fact that he's a Gryffindor and a famous git."

Hermione turned slowly on the spot and looked at Draco questioningly. "Why are you telling me that?" Draco frowned, taken aback that she was talking to him again. When he didn't reply she took a step towards him. "Why do you care what I think, Malfoy?" He struggled to find an answer for her and she stepped back, shaking her head as if to get rid of a fly that was bothering her. She walked quickly away from Draco towards the Great Hall leaving him standing in the corridor, still turning her question over in his mind.

888

Over the next week three Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw were collected by frantic parents, but the remainder of the parents believed Dumbledore when he told them that there was nothing to fear at Hogwarts. The attack was still being discussed in the halls, but some sense of normality was returning to the school. Harry had still not woken up, but everyone had begun to believe Dumbledore's assurances that he would have a full recovery. Only Ginny remained by his side whenever she could - a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Hermione. One night in the Gryffindor common room she cornered her friend. "I haven't seen you in here much recently."

Ginny smiled bashfully at the older girl. "Madam Pomfrey kicked me out. She said I had to spend at least one night in a comfortable seat, instead of one of those hospital wing chairs." She looked down at the floor, a little embarrassed. "Do you think everyone has noticed?"

"I don't think so. Ron certainly isn't the kind of guy to work it out on his own, at least." She smiled encouragingly at Ginny. "But what are you going to do when he wakes up? You can't just go on like this, and it seems like Harry likes you as well."

It was difficult not to see the hope shine in Ginny's eyes. "I know, I thought so too. I'm just not sure about it. This whole thing proves that I can't wait for him forever, but what if I'm wrong? What if I make a total fool out of myself?"

Hermione could see that assuring her friend of Harry's affections wasn't going to work, so she tried another tactic. "So what if you do?" Ginny looked at her, surprised, and Hermione elaborated. "What's the worst that can happen if you make a fool out of yourself? Is it really any worse than never trying, and never finding out for definite? You'll always be wondering what could have been, if you don't go for it."

Ginny nodded doubtfully. It made sense, but that didn't make her any less nervous about the idea. "What's made you so keen on people taking risks all of a sudden?" she asked with a smile. "What happened to the responsible Hermione who's always advising caution?"

Hermione's smile had a hint of regret in it. "I guess she must be on holiday right now. I'll try and bring her back before Christmas comes round. There's got to be something that reminds me to study, right?" The girls laughed together, and Hermione thought she saw a glimmer of determination in Ginny's eyes, at last.

888

Ginny found herself cornered again the next day, this time by her brother. "What do you want Ron? I'm busy right now."

His eyes darted around the room nervously and he hesitated before launching into what he had to say. "I'm just wondering if Hermione's ever said anything to you about me," he said, his cheeks blushing scarlet and clashing horribly with his hair.

"Oh right. Well, no, not really," Ginny answered regretfully. She'd suspected Ron's crush on their friend for a while now, but she had to be honest with him. He looked so disappointed that Ginny felt she needed to comfort him in some way. "That doesn't mean she's not interested though, Ron. Maybe you should just ask her out anyway," she said, remembering Hermione's earlier advice to her. "The worst she can do is knock you back, and you'll never know if you don't try and find out."

Ron looked like he was going to reply, but Ginny was in a rush and left him in the common room considering his options.


	9. Old Friends and New Ones

Chapter Nine 

  
Old Friends and New Ones

The next couple of weeks were to prove difficult for Draco. He hadn't been able to get Hermione's question out of his head, and yet he still couldn't help wanting her to believe him when he told her he had nothing to do with the attack on Potter. He was so distracted in potions that he actually caused an explosion before Neville Longbottom, and Snape was so surprised that he took five points off Slytherin before he had realised what he was doing. The Gryffindors agreed between themselves that there had never been a better potions lesson in recent memory.

He found his feet were taking him to the library a lot more recently, although he always told himself determinedly that he was on his way somewhere else, and that was where he sat now. He glared at her bent head as she whispered to some girl about charms. The other girl looked like she was in Ravenclaw - certainly very few other houses would be in the library on a Saturday morning, especially not when there was snow to be thrown outside. Hermione glanced up and caught his eye, and he looked down at the book on his desk - _Goblin Rebellions in the Fifteenth Century_. At least he was getting his homework done. Although maybe that wasn't such a good idea when he was spending most of his time looking at the Gryffindor, he thought, rereading his last sentence that claimed Cornelius Fudge was one of the major leaders of the Goblins. He scratched it out and tried to force himself concentrate.

Meanwhile, Hermione wasn't having a much better time. She was well aware of Draco's almost constant presence, which was only serving to remind her of her part in Harry's injuries. True, Harry was doing much better now, and was expected to wake up soon - even the medi-witches from Mungos had left - but that didn't relieve Hermione of the guilt she was feeling. As her gaze lingered on the blonde head leant over a thick book, she knew she had to get away. She needed a distraction, and school-work wasn't doing the trick any more. She muttered a few words of farewell to the Ravenclaw girl and slipped out of the library while Draco was distracted.

888

"Damn!" She stamped her foot on the ground in a very childlike way and scowled at the broom lying on the floor in front of her. "Up." The broom rolled over lazily. "For God's sake, up, you stupid wooden –" She trailed off as she heard someone behind her laugh and she turned, ready to tell whoever it was to leave before she rammed her wand somewhere unpleasant. She was faced with the attractive Ravenclaw from last week. She hesitated and faltered, completely forgetting her anger.

The boy laughed even more at her hesitation. "Now, you don't strike me as the type to swear at inanimate objects, Hermione."

She smiled at him, unable to keep up her glare, and tossed her hair away from her face. "Well, I only do it if they're really mean to me," she said with a laugh, then turned back to the broom with a tired sigh. "I've been trying for two hours and I can hardly get the thing to fly into my hand."

"It's all in your thought process. You can't just stand there and --"

"And expect the thing to obey you, I know. Be fearless, be commanding, I know all of that. I've read every damn book on the subject. But my brain can't get the rest of me to listen.

He laughed at that and looking at her thoughtfully. "Well maybe you're approaching it the wrong way. You're taking, what, five NEWTS?" Hermione nodded, wondering how on earth he knew that. "And I bet it really irritates you that you can't get the hang of how to fly, after trying for six years, am I right?"

She rolled her eyes and nodded. "I suppose so, yeah."

"You're thinking far too much about it, and believe me, as a Ravenclaw I know all about thinking too much. You're standing there remembering everything the books have told you, thinking about being commanding, thinking about being fearless, when actually you're still completely terrified." Hermione was about to object to that but he put his hand over the broom and she watched him instead. "Up." He spoke calmly and quietly and the broom flew into his hand. He let go of it, moved behind her and took her wrist in his hand. He held her open palm out above the broom but left his hand on her wrist. For the first time in a long time she felt a shiver of excitement from someone other than Draco Malfoy. "Just close your eyes and let your mind go free. Imagine flying high over the treetops and being able to touch the clouds. Imagine how amazing that feeling must be, and the broom will feel it to. Now…"

"Up," she whispered, and the broom leapt into her hand. Her eyes flew open in surprise and she turned to look at the Ravenclaw, grinning. "Look at that – it worked."

He smiled warmly at her and nodded. "You see how easy it is?" She nodded, her eyes shining, and he grinned. "Now you just have to get off the ground." He put his hand out and she took it. "Nicolas Poltice, Ravenclaw. You can call me Nick."

888

Ron was sat on his own in the common-room. Everyone was outside throwing snowballs, and the screams and sounds of people having fun were almost painful, ringing in his ears. He was staring into the fire and deeper in thought than he ever had before. They always fought their battles together, and in the past it had only ever made them closer, but since this death eater attack, he and his friends had lost touch. He knew Ginny was spending all her time in the hospital-wing, but he had hardly been there himself. He told himself it was because he didn't want to intrude -he may have been Harry's best friend but Ginny was in love with him, and he argued that he would have been out of place there. Really it was because he couldn't bear to look at Harry lying there, helpless. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that final death eater aiming his wand at Harry. Ron reached for his wand in slow motion and saw the curse leave the death eater's wand and fly across to hit Harry before Ron even had his ready to point, and then Harry was on the floor looking as though all the blood had drained out of him, and Ron was powerless to do anything. Back in the common-room he tried to shake himself out of his harmful reverie, but he was finding it difficult to stop blaming himself.

He just couldn't see Harry so weak and feeble in the hospital, not again. Their adventures that had seemed so fun and exciting back in the first few years were beginning to take their toll on him. He was tired, and sick of feeling powerless. He hadn't allowed Hermione to do anything more about the cut on his hand from where he'd punched the mirror, and the cut had sealed into a pale, white scar. He ran his fingers over it now, grimly pleased to finally have a physical manifestation of his battles against Voldemort and the evil that he represented.

And Hermione, his other best friend, was spending all of her time hidden away in the library. The will to tease her about it was gone, now he just wanted to be with her wherever she was, but at the same time his shame and embarrassment was holding him back like a net that he couldn't cut through. He gazed into the fire and tried to stop his thoughts, tried to get the will to go and see Harry, tried to convince himself to seek out Hermione and speak to her, but he felt like someone had cast a full body-bind curse on him.

He sighed deeply. There was no point in seeking either of them out. He was resigned to it - they just couldn't get through to each other any more. Too many years of battle had changed them, and there was nothing he could do about it.

888

Meanwhile, Hermione had forgotten about Draco and was having a wonderful morning. Nick got his Nimbus 2001 and she flew on that as he accompanied her on the school broom. She had insisted that if they were going to fly properly then they had to go somewhere where people wouldn't see her when she inevitably made an idiot of herself. He had laughingly complied. They touched down just outside of the forbidden forest and Hermione's eyes were bright, her cheeks were flushed and her recently straightened hair was windswept. Most importantly, she was laughing. "I've never had more fun in years."

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. You're a lot of fun yourself."

Hermione blushed and looked pleased at the compliment. She didn't get many, and one could hardly say that Draco had been whispering sweet nothings into her ear. "Thank you." She stepped away from the broom and handed it back to Nick. "And thank you for teaching me how to fly."

He grinned and took the broom from her. "You're more than welcome. Tell me, is there anything left now that you can't do?"

She laughed at that, unable to stop smiling even if she had wanted to. "Divination. And may God ensure that I never get that gift." She took the arm that he offered and they started the walk back to the castle, chatting companionably.

When they arrived at one of the castle entrances Nick stopped and turned to face her. "I had a good time this morning."

"I did too," she said, smiling openly at him.

He hesitated and looked down at the ground, apparently a little self-conscious. "Hermione, would you like to go to the Christmas ball with me?"

She heard him and blushed again. Harry was in hospital and she felt responsible, but she hadn't felt so distant from Draco and those strange things he made her feel in a long time. So she smiled and looked up at him. "I'd love to."

888

Ginny was sat beside Harry clutching his hand tight. Despite all of Madam Pomfrey's shooing and Professor McGonagall's chastisement, she was still spending every moment she could in the hospital wing. Harry had improved, there was no question. He was taking the potion on his own now, without the need for a swallowing charm, and although he hadn't woken up, he had moments of clear consciousness. He hadn't spoken or moved, but his eyes had fluttered open more than once. Still, Ginny wanted to be there when he woke up. She had told Professor McGonagall, "I'm going to be the first face he sees when he regains full consciousness," and there was such determination in the little redhead's eyes that the older woman hadn't the heart to turn her away.

And so it was Ginny's hopeful, loving eyes that were looking into Harry's when he awoke. He frowned, and slowly, tenderly moved his head to look around the hospital wing. "Hospital?" he said croakily, his mouth painfully dry.

Ginny gripped his hand even tighter and tears started welling up in her eyes. "Yes," she whispered. "You've been very ill."

Stiffly, he nodded in acknowledgement. "You've been here?" The tears were running down her cheeks now and she couldn't answer, so she just held his hand and nodded. "Because of love?" Wide-eyed and nervous, Ginny nodded again. "Good." He settled back onto his pillows with a sigh, as if the effort of holding his head up was too tiring. "Me too."

He closed his eyes and the cryptic conversation was over, so Ginny ran to get Madam Pomfrey. "He was awake," she whispered, not wanting to disturb Harry unless it was necessary. "Properly awake, not like before. He seemed happy but in pain. I think he needs water; he couldn't talk properly."

Madam Pomfrey had leapt up at Ginny's first sentence, and now she was by Harry's bed performing her diagnostic checks. They were satisfactory, and she turned to Ginny. "Can you go and get Professors Snape and Dumbledore, please. Tell them that Harry is awake." With a nod Ginny ran out of the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey knelt beside Harry with a potion in her hand. She spoke softly and gently to the fragile boy in her care. "Harry, can you hear me?" He nodded and his eyes drifted open, tiredly. "Harry, you need to take this final potion to complete your recovery, but you need to take this one while you're awake. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes." Ginny was right, he did need water, Madam Pomfrey thought when he spoke, but first he needed the potion.

"Good boy. I'm going to hold it to your lips and you need to swallow it all." She let him drink the potion, and then conjured a glass of water. "Drink this, it will make you feel less parched." He actually raised his arms to take the glass, and Madam Pomfrey knew then that he would be fine. He sipped the water and tried to sit up properly, but Madam Pomfrey's hand was on his shoulder. "Don't you dare try to go too fast, Mr. Potter. You've been in here longer than you probably realise. You need to rest."

"I feel like I've been resting for months. When can I leave?"

After just a few sips of water he was already sounding and looking much better. "Not for a week or two, at least. Do you know what happened to you?"

"Yes, I think so. My scar was hurting so much I thought my head was going to explode. Ron and Ginny were fighting death eaters and I couldn't help them. Then…" here, he wavered. "Then there was nothing. Just pain and suffering, like the dementors but worse. Horrible dreams and things. Voldemort taking over the school, and my mother dying, and everyone dead." He looked pale at the remembrance, and Madam Pomfrey stroked his hair.

"Just dreams, Mr. Potter. That's what the curse does. Calm down, now. Do you remember anything else? Anything better?"

Harry nodded, and took another sip of water. "Good things. I remember feeling looked after and loved. It was like there was a warm blanket around me," he smiled and his eyes looked soft and happy. "It felt like I never had to worry again. Was I dying?"

"No. You were being looked after, and you were being loved, that is all." She smiled warmly at him. "Sometimes when a wizard is deep in a coma, as you were, he will pick up on the emotions of those around him. And there was so much love and concern for you in this room that I'd be surprised if you hadn't felt it at all."

The headmaster and the potions teacher chose this moment to enter the infirmary, and she turned to them, suddenly all business. "Poppy, how is he?"

She stepped aside to reveal him to them, saying, "why don't you ask him yourself?"

The expression of relief on Professor Dumbledore's face was evident to everyone in the room, and if Harry had ever doubted the headmaster's feelings for him, his doubts disappeared forever in that room. Dumbledore approached the bed and sat beside Harry. "You're better."

"Yes. Thank you for looking after me, sir."

"Of course." He glanced up and Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape, and they understood. When they had retired to Madam Pomfrey's office and the headmaster had privacy, he took Harry's hand. "You're like a son to me, Harry. When I thought you were in danger I could only blame myself. This has been a difficult couple of weeks for all of us, I feel."

Hermione and Ron suddenly burst through the doors, led by Ginny, all with eyes shining, and the headmaster turned to look at them. They were all relieved to see the sparkle back in his eyes once more. "I'm sorry, sir, I just knew they'd want to know right away that Harry was OK."

"Of course they would. Well done, Ginny." He got up, squeezing Harry's hand once before he followed the mediwitch and the potions master into the office. All three of them descended on Harry's bed as soon as they were alone.

"Harry, we've been so worried." Hermione had tears running freely down her cheeks as she watched him carefully, as if he might break any moment. Ron said nothing, but he looked as though a great load had been lifted off his mind as, indeed, it had. He just grinned and punched Harry lightly on the arm. Ginny held his hand and looked into his eyes. He looked back and they both smiled.


	10. The Green Eyed Monster

Chapter Ten

The Green-Eyed Monster

After an hour or so of catching up with Harry, Hermione could see that he wanted to be alone with Ginny, so she caught Ron's eye and nodded towards the door. They left together, and just outside the door Ron stopped her. He was almost shaking, but seeing Ginny and Harry together had given him confidence, and he was ready. "Hermione, we need to talk."

"Of course, what's wrong?"

"Can we go somewhere private?" She nodded and he pulled her into an empty classroom. He took a deep breath and looked up into her eyes. Her expression was compassionate and, it seemed to him, loving. Remembering Ginny's earlier advice, he decided to forget the speech he had been planning, and just leant in to kiss his friend.

Shocked, Hermione pulled back. "Ron, what are you doing?"

"Oh God, Hermione, I thought - I mean, you -" He spluttered, embarrassed and confused. "I just wanted to ask you to go with me to the Christmas ball."

There was still a glimmer of hope in his eyes, and it wrenched at Hermione's heart to disappoint him, but she knew she had to. "Oh Ron, I'm so sorry. I'm going with someone else, a Ravenclaw boy in the seventh year. Ron, please –" but he was already out of the door. Hermione sat down on a desk and sighed. She had always had an idea of his feelings, but she had been hoping he would suffer in silence until she had a long-term boyfriend, and then realise he'd missed his chance. To have to reject one of her best friends felt absolutely horrible. She sank onto a desk and rested her head in her hands.

Slowly but surely, the tears started to form. She had been suffering recently, and finally everything was too much for her. Her relief that Harry had recovered, her guilt over Draco, and now her pain over rejecting Ron, all combined to make her sob, alone in the empty classroom.

She cried until there was nothing left inside her, leaving her feeling thoroughly exhausted. "Hermione!" She sat up suddenly, surprised to see the Weasley's only daughter standing in the doorway.

She wiped her eyes quickly and gave Ginny an embarrassed smile. "Hi, Ginny. Sorry."

Ginny moved over to her swiftly and sat beside her on the desk. "Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. What are you sorry for? And why are you sitting here all alone in the dark?"

"You shouldn't have to deal with me in this state," she explained awkwardly. "Not when Harry's finally so much better." She dissolved into tears again towards the end of the sentence, and Ginny pulled her into a warm hug. She let the other girl cry onto her shoulder until she quietened down again, and then pulled away.

She gently wiped away Hermione's tears and looked compassionately into her soft, brown eyes. "Hermione, please tell me what's got you into this state. You'll have me going in a minute, and I'd like to at least know what we're crying about," she said with a soothing laugh.

Hermione managed a weak chuckle of her own, and then grew melancholy again. "You wouldn't want to know half the things that have happened to me recently."

"You want to bet?" Ginny said challenging, and Hermione managed a stronger laugh this time.

"How much have you got?" she asked, looking intently into her friend's eyes. There was a long, weighted pause, in which Hermione struggled to decide what to do. In the end her implicit trust in Ginny and the need to unburden herself won over. "OK, I'll tell you what's wrong. Aside from relief that Harry's going to be healthy again, of course, there are two things on my mind." She took a deep breath, very worried about Ginny's reaction to both pieces of information. "Most immediately, Ron just had me in here and was trying to kiss me." Ginny winced, able to guess what was coming. "I pulled away and he was mortified. I tried to smooth it over but he didn't exactly stay to hear that it wasn't him, it was me, and that I'd love it if we could still be friends."

Ginny sighed, and took Hermione's hand. "I'm partly to blame there, Hermione. He talked to me about it and I told him he should go for it with you. I said the worst that could happen is that you'd reject him, but I don't think he heard that bit. I should have talked to you first, warned you so you could let him down gently. I was just so worried about Harry. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive. I don't think I could have let him down gently, to be honest with you. He would have taken it badly no matter how I broke it to him, and you would have been betraying a confidence if you'd told me. That's how Ron would have seen it anyway, I expect."

"That's good of you, Hermione. Thanks for not blaming me. I'm sure Ron will get over it eventually and find someone else to moon over." A silence fell as both girls thought about Ron and his wounded emotions, until Ginny finally broke it. "Well go on then, don't keep me in suspense. What's the other thing that's on your mind?"

Hermione tensed. Thinking about Ron had gone some way to making her forget about Draco, and now it all came flooding back. She looked down at her lap and spoke quietly. "I'm terrified you'll hate me."

"Hate you? Of course I wouldn't, you're my best friend. You could never make me hate you." Hermione remained silent, and Ginny squeezed her hand, worried. "You're making me nervous, though. Please tell me what's wrong."

Her words came out in a rush. "Just – you have to know that I would never do anything to hurt Harry, ever."

Ginny withdrew her hand instinctively, then shook herself angrily and took Hermione's hand again. No wonder her friend was worried about her reaction. "Of course I know that. You love Harry as much as I do."

Hermione nodded, but she had felt Ginny's movement, and it only supported her fears. Still, she had started now, so she should finish, she told herself. "At the exact time that Harry was being attacked I was in Filch's office –" she took a deep breath and steeled herself, "having sex with Draco Malfoy."

This time Ginny when withdrew her hand she didn't replace it. She looked at Hermione with wide, shocked eyes, and didn't speak for a full minute. Then she seemed to recollect herself and gather her senses together. She exhaled slowly. "OK," she said. And then, in a firmer voice, "OK, I wasn't expecting that." Suddenly she took both Hermione's hands in her own and gripped them tightly. "Oh, but Hermione, I could never hate you for such a thing." She gently raised Hermione's head so she was looking her in the eyes, but the other girl wouldn't look at her. "Is that what's been on your mind all this time that Harry has been ill?" Hermione nodded miserably. "And you've been feeling like it was all your fault," she said in a rush of sympathetic understanding.

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes again, and she met Ginny's eyes. "It is my fault," she said urgently. Suddenly she wanted Ginny to hate her, to blame her, as though that would ease her own self-loathing. "Don't you understand? The last one got a shot in at Harry before he left," she said, recalling Ron's words exactly. "If I had been there, I would have made it an even fight. I didn't leave Filch's office until ten minutes past eight. That's ten minutes later than I would have stayed if I wasn't fucking a death eater's son. If it was a normal detention and I left when I was supposed to, I would have been there for Harry. It _is_ my fault, Ginny." She looked at her friend with desperate, pleading eyes.

Ginny was quiet and thoughtful for a moment, as she listened to Hermione's despairing analysis, and then pushed a strand of her friend's hair behind her ear. "Interesting theory," she said softly, and Hermione's gaze became confused. "Bollocks, of course. I would have expected you of all people to use your head, Hermione."

"What do you –" she broke of when Ginny raised a hand to silence her.

"Firstly, Filch could have kept you late, for all you know, or you might have got detained in the corridors, or anything could have happened to slow you down. Secondly, we're talking about seriously powerful wizards. One of them might have got a lucky shot in at you right at the start. Maybe you wouldn't have pulled your wand out quickly enough and then you'd be blaming yourself for that. Thirdly, as far as I'm aware you quit divination in your third year. Unless you've suddenly developed a miraculous new talent that you haven't told any of us about, there was no way you could have had any idea what was going to happen." Hermione started to speak and Ginny overrode her forcefully. "And that means you did nothing malicious or deliberate or anything even remotely similar to those things." She smiled sadly at Hermione. "It was just a really unlucky twist of fate," she said gently. Hermione shook her head despondently, and Ginny took hold of her shoulders. "Yes, it was. And you know it was. If it had been anyone else you wouldn't be feeling this way. This has nothing to do with what you were doing and what may or may not have happened if you weren't doing it. It does, however, have everything to do with _who_ you were doing it with." She paused, waiting for Hermione to finally meet her eyes. When she did, Ginny asked delicately, "do you love him?"

Hermione shook her head, confused. "No – I mean, yes – maybe. I don't know. How can I love someone like him?" she asked vehemently; the question had been going round her own head for weeks now.

"Love's not rational, Hermione. You can't choose who you fall for. He's not really that bad, after all." Again, she stopped her friend from interrupting. "Sure, he's the malicious king of Slytherin, and he's made life hell for all of us since we met him, but that doesn't matter if you really love him. He's never done anything so bad, you know. It's not his fault that his father is a bastard and spoilt him rotten."

Hermione laughed weakly and nodded. She was starting to feel warmer, and her tears had dried up. For good this time, she thought. "I think I do love him," she said, voicing her feelings for the first time ever. It was frightening – it made it feel more real, more concrete. "But I'm going to beat it," she said firmly. "I am," she said in response to Ginny's uncertain look. "There's a Ravenclaw boy who asked me to the Christmas ball and I've said yes. Constant distractions will put Dra- _Malfoy_ out of my mind. I know it will." Ginny remained unconvinced, but nodded supportively and pulled Hermione into another hug.

888

She put her plan into action with full force the next morning, and from then on, not a day went by without her being seen in the company of Nick Poltice. Lavender and Parvati were constantly whispering about it, and it was sending Ron and Draco into fits of jealousy.

But her plan was failing abysmally. Nick was interesting, intelligent, funny and drop-dead gorgeous, yet thoughts of a blonde Slytherin were constantly intruding and interfering with her ability to listen to him. They were in the Great Hall; he had come over to her table to give her a good morning kiss, and they were now walking towards the exit while he told her a particularly humorous story involving him accidentally knocking his young sister into a coffee table one Christmas morning and giving her a black eye, yet she kept glancing over his shoulder to look at the Slytherin table.

She laughed at something Nick said, but her smile faded when she saw Draco with his arm around some Slytherin fifth year that she didn't recognise. He was whispering something in her ear and she was giggling excitedly. Hermione knew that she had no grounds for complaint if Draco wanted to see other girls; she had made it clear that she was no longer interested in pursuing a relationship with him after all. She also knew she should be pleased that he was moving on, that it should make it easier for her, but it wrenched at her insides all the same.

Draco smiled sexily at the blonde Slytherin and gave her a goodbye kiss. The girl giggled as she had been doing all morning, and turned slightly pink. "See you later. Melissa."

"It's Marina." Her smile weakened a little.

Not faltering for even a moment, he grinned and turned on the charm. "Of course it is. I'm so sorry, how could I forget? Marina's a gorgeous name. Enjoy Hogsmeade."

She was content with that. "I know I will now I have you to think about. Bye, Draco. It was really nice seeing you today. Thanks for the flower." She ran down the corridor happily. "Have fun this afternoon," she called over her shoulder.

He smirked at her, then caught Hermione's eye. His smirk faltered and he gave her an almost pleading look, but she scowled at him, and renewed her efforts to pay attention to Nick's story. She laughed in all the right places, but she just couldn't focus.

Meanwhile, Ron hadn't said a word to Hermione since the conversation in the abandoned classroom. She had tried to get him to open up, but every time she spoke to him, he looked the other way as if she wasn't there. Harry tried to talk to him about it that morning once Hermione and Nick had left. "Listen, Ron, you can't hate her for what she did. It's not her fault she doesn't like you in that way."

He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he had said the wrong thing. Ron's head darted up and he stared at Harry with fire in his eyes. "Oh, I see. You mean it's not her fault that I'm so unappealing and dull, you mean?"

The hall was almost empty now, as most students wanted to get to Hogsmeade early. But Harry could sense that the people still there were looking curiously, and he did his best to calm his friend down. "I'm not saying that, mate," he said quietly. "You know I'm not. But Hermione's interested in someone else and there's nothing you can do about that. It might make you feel better if you tell yourself you hate her, but it won't solve anything. You're just going to lose a good friend and then you'll feel even worse."

Ron stood up angrily, knocking over the pumpkin juice as he did so. "What do you know about it? How would you have felt if Ginny had told you she just wanted to be friends?" He was shouting now, and the Great Hall was silent and watching. Ron's hand was hovering over his wand-pocket but Professor Vector, the only teacher left in the hall, had her head buried in a book and wasn't paying attention. "But she didn't, did she? She fell in love with the Great Harry Potter and now you're fucking her!"

Harry was still sat, and now he stared at his best friend in shock. This was something that he had never seen in Ron, and he didn't know how to handle it. "Look –" he said in what he hoped was a calming tone, but Ron stopped him short by whipping out his wand and pointing it at Harry's chest.

"No, I will not look!" Ron screamed angrily. "Back off or I will hurt you, I promise you that."

Harry stood too, and their audience was on tenterhooks. Not a whisper could be heard in the tense hall, nobody was moving, but Professor Vector had still not noticed. Harry slowly withdrew his wand and pointed it at Ron, speaking quietly. "I don't think you want to fight me, Ron."

They eyed each other warily, neither wanting to put down their wands. After a moment that seemed to last for eternity, Ron lowered his wand and ran out of the Great Hall. The students seemed to take a collective breath, and almost immediately a cacophony of voices filled the hall. Harry sat down and breathed deeply, feeling shaken by the whole experience.

Seamus and Dean were sat a little further up from Harry, and they scooted down to him. "Are you alright, man? Ron's gone crazy. He looked like he was really going to hurt you," Dean said.

Neville, who had been sat beside Ron when he had become so angry, nodded. He, too, looked shaky and unhappy. "He's really jealous of Hermione and Nick, and of Harry and Ginny. That can do funny things to people."

"Harry and Ginny," Seamus spluttered. "He doesn't want to go out with his own sister, does he?"

Harry smiled wanly and shook his head. "But we're happy and he's not. Neville's right, he's just jealous. He'll get over it soon enough." Neville didn't look so convinced about that, but he said nothing.


	11. For Good, This Time

Chapter Eleven

For Good, This Time

Ron felt nothing but white fury all the way to Hogsmeade. He had wanted to seriously hurt Harry in the Great Hall, and that feeling still hadn't subsided. It was made worse by the fact that he had been forced to back down. He felt small and insignificant, and very angry with the world. He grew increasingly tense as he walked, wrapping his arms around himself to keep warm. He had forgotten his cloak and the snow was falling heavily. When he stormed into the Three Broomsticks, he was in no mood to see Nick with his arms wrapped around Hermione, both of them laughing contentedly. For the second time that morning, Ron pulled out his wand, and this time he didn't intend to back down. "Poltice," he called. Nick turned and looked surprised to see Ron trembling, with his wand out.

"Hi. It's Ron, right?" He smiled warmly, although he still appeared a little uncertain as to what was going on.

Hermione, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. She slipped off the stool and glared at Ron. "Stop being ridiculous Ronald. Put your wand down and stop shouting. This isn't going to solve anything, you know that."

Hearing Harry's words echoed so soon after they were spoken, even if it was not intentional, did nothing to ease Ron's temper. He waved his wand in Nick's direction. "Are you going to come outside, or am I going to have to make you?"

Nick, looking slightly bemused, agreed to step out of the pub with Ron, but he had no idea why the other boy was behaving so oddly. "If I've done something to offend you, please be assured it was nothing intentional. I apologise for whatever it is I've done, but no harm was meant to you."

Ron didn't acknowledge the apology. "Draw your wand."

"I'm sorry?" Nick glanced at Hermione to see if she could shed any light on the situation.

"Nick, Ron asked me –"

"Draw your wand," Ron repeated in a firmer voice.

"No. I'm not going to fight someone when I don't even know why." He laughed nervously, hoping this was all an elaborate joke.

"I don't want to fight an unarmed man, Poltice, but I will if you make me," Ron shouted. "Draw!" Again, Nick refused. Ron shouted a curse which shot towards Nick, but Hermione cast a shield spell to protect them both, just as Fred and George appeared and pulled Ron back.

"Hey Ron. We were just –"

"Coming to –"

"Find you," the twins finished in unison.

"We've come up to check out the competition," Fred said, nodding towards Zonko's with a grin.

"So we thought we'd see how our little brother was doing at the same time." Ron was struggling to break free, but both boys were holding him, and they had a strong grip. "We didn't expect to find you with a smoking wand," George said, laughing. "What's up with him?" he asked Hermione.

Before Hermione could respond, Ron interrupted with swearing and spells, which would do nothing since Fred had his wand. "Hermione, you'd better go. Ron's gone a bit mental," Fred said with a grin.

Hermione and Nick nodded, and made to leave. "I hope you can talk some sense into him," Hermione said, "because he's behaving like a child at the moment."

The twins held him until Hermione and Nick had disappeared, and Ron finally collapsed into his brothers' arms, exhausted. "She chose that Poltice guy over me."

Fred and George shared a look, and then stared at Ron. "Is that all?"

"What do you mean? Didn't you hear what I said?" Ron looked as though he was on the verge of erupting again, but the twins just grinned at him.

"We thought at least she'd ruined your favourite jumper."

"Or refused to do your homework anymore." They laughed together, and Ron shook himself free angrily and wrenched his wand away from Fred. "Hey, come on Ron," George said, looking at his younger brother in concern. "We were only joking."

"Yeah, it's shit when a girl dumps you, but it's not worth killing over."

"There are other girls out there."

"Plenty," Fred said with a wink.

Deep down, Ron knew that what they were saying was reasonable, but he was past reason. Shaking his head, he started to back away from them, and when they tried to follow, he broke into a run. "Stay away from me," he called over his shoulder. "This has nothing to do with you." The twins looked at each other, but neither of them had seen Ron behave in this way before, and they didn't know what to do with him.

888

Nick and Hermione had left the scene quickly when Fred and George gave them the chance. Nick wanted to know exactly what was going on, and Hermione just wanted to get away from Ron before he could do any further damage to himself. She agreed with the twins that her continued presence would only exacerbate the situation, and if she was honest with herself, she was relieved to be out of his sight. She still felt horribly guilty whenever she saw him, and the look of pain he had in his eyes when she first rejected him hadn't lessened at all. Hermione looked up for the first time and saw that she had led them to the Crow Pub. She had intended to find somewhere quiet to explain the situation to Nick, but the last place she wanted to be was the place where she and Draco had their first encounter. She knew it would look odd if she turned around now, so with a sigh she entered the pub.

Nick looked around in distaste, but did not argue with her choice of venue. Instead he approached the bar and ordered two butterbeers, but the one-eyed witch just grinned and shook her head. "You won't get none of that slop in here, boy. It's firewhiskey or nothing, and if it's nothing you can just get right out of the place this minute." Nick hesitated, then relented and took the offered drinks. The witch was looking at Hermione curiously. "Hey, I know you. Aren't you that girl who –"

"No, you must have me confused with someone else," Hermione said quickly. "Thank you for the firewhiskeys. Come on, Nick." Nervously, she pulled Nick away to a dark table, out of sight of the bar.

Once they were both sat down, Nick took a sip of his firewhiskey and winced. "Strong stuff, this. My dad drinks it every Christmas and gets plastered. Don't feel like you have to drink yours if you don't want to. I don't suppose you've ever tried it before? It's pretty strong when you first taste it." Hermione smiled weakly, but said nothing to correct him. "So will you tell me now? What was wrong with your friend back there? He is your friend, isn't he?"

Hermione nodded miserably. "It's nothing, really. He asked me to the Christmas ball a little while ago and I said I was already going with you. It wouldn't be so bad, but he's been interested in me for a long time, and I think that deep down he always expected me to say yes once he finally got the courage to ask me out."

Nick nodded, realisation dawning. "So it's the wounded friend routine. Unrequited love's a bitch, I feel for the guy." Nick spoke without thinking, and realised his words weren't exactly comforting when Hermione's expression grew even more sombre. He reached out and put a hand over hers. "I'm sorry, Hermione. That was a stupid thing to say. I know it's difficult right now, but I'm sure he'll come around with time. No-one would want to lose you, even if they had to be satisfied with just a friendship." He smiled softly at Hermione, and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She gave him another weak smile, which grew when he slid over to sit beside her. "I bet I can make you feel better," he said with a grin, and leaned in to kiss her tenderly. Hermione broke away suddenly when she heard a far too well-known voice carrying across the pub.

"I wouldn't have expected to see the high and mighty mudblood canoodling with her posh boyfriend in this dirty, rundown place," Draco said with an unpleasant smirk on his face. "But maybe that's all an act, Hermione?" Nick tensed, but Hermione gripped his hand, telling him silently to leave it. She scowled at the Draco, silently warning him to back off or suffer the consequences. The redhead he was with giggled irritatingly, and pulled the Slytherin towards her for a passionate kiss. Nick and Hermione watched silently, and it was obvious Draco was putting the show on just for them. He pulled away and turned back towards the couple, looking pleased with himself. "Mind if we join you?" he asked casually.

Nick opened his mouth to object, but Hermione saw the challenge in Draco's eyes and, against her better judgement, told him to go ahead. Nick gave her a curious glance, but she was determined to prove to herself that she could spend time with the blonde boy without being affected. And maybe if he saw that nothing he did to or in front of her would make a difference, this whole ridiculous affair would finally be over. Hermione was pleased to see a look of surprise pass swiftly over Draco's features, but it passed quickly, and his expression was one of complete composure. He took the chair opposite Hermione and lounged back in it, ostensibly thoroughly relaxed. The simpering girl he had with him was hovering beside the table, looking confused and a bit out of sorts. Draco stared at Hermione for an awkward moment, before suddenly remembering his companion. "Well, sit down then," he said irritably. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to realise how much she could distract him, and he didn't particularly like being reminded of it either.

The girl flounced into the chair beside Draco and scowled at Hermione – even she could see that this bushy-haired Gryffindor was her competition. After waiting in vain for Draco to introduce her, she sighed heavily. "I'm Juliana," she said. "I'm a sixth year Slytherin." The emphasis was on Slytherin, as she gave Draco a pointed look.

"Er – Nick Poltice," Hermione's boyfriend put in uncomfortably, after no-one else said anything. "I'm a Ravenclaw, seventh year, the same as Malfoy and Hermione."

Finally, it became clear that either Draco or Hermione were supposed to speak next. "Granger," Draco said with disdain.

"Malfoy," she returned with a curt nod.

The table lapsed into uncomfortable silence, as Draco and Hermione continued to stare at each other. Nick and Juliana made some attempt at conversation, but with their partners seemingly oblivious to their presence, it was rather stilted. Hermione watched Draco as his eyes left hers and wandered down her body, taking everything in slowly and calculatingly. His gaze finally fell on the firewhiskey, and he looked back up at her, a minute smile playing on his lips, and they both knew the other was remembering the events following their last meeting in this pub. Hermione didn't return his smile, and continued to hold her unfriendly gaze, despite the conflicting emotions raging beneath the surface. Draco broke the stare first and, as if suddenly coming back to the present, draped his arm around Juliana, and whispered something in her ear. Juliana giggled and whispered something back, apparently happy again now she had Draco's attention.

Nick was watching Hermione curiously. Her usual calm repose seemed thoroughly shaken by the arrival of the Slytherin, and there seemed to be something more there than casual dislike. He remembered the duel between the two of them, where she had first caught his interest. He had assumed at the time that it was nothing more than a bit of particularly violent house-rivalry, but now it appeared as though there might have been something else going on back then. She looked almost jealous of the Slytherin girl, he thought. Surely she didn't have a crush on that arrogant bastard? She was so magnificent, and he was such a… Slytherin. It had to be something other than that, he told himself, but the storm in her eyes was unnerving, and difficult to decode.

Hermione was unaware of Nick's thoughts as she watched Draco and Juliana behave as though they were oblivious to the other couple at the table. She knew she should never have allowed them to sit with her, and she was kicking herself for the foolish mistake. She wasn't ready to be in Draco's presence yet; she was starting to doubt if she ever would be. Her eyes were pleading with Draco to leave but he was devoting his time to ignoring her as best he could, and hadn't even noticed. Draco's hands were out of sight beneath the table, and Juliana was looking quite flushed. A jolt of pain shot through Hermione. Draco whispered something in her ear, and the redhead stood up and straightened her skirt. "Excuse me, I'm just going to the bathroom," she said, with a significant look at Draco.

Hermione turned to Nick and smiled sincerely at him. "Would you get me another drink please, baby?" Nick's gaze dropped to the still full tumbler of firewhiskey, which Hermione quickly picked up and drained. With a nod, Nick rose and approached the bar.

"Baby?" Draco questioned, eyebrows raised, trademark smirk playing on his lips.

Hermione ignored the question. "Please leave."

"Hey, you invited us to sit down. If you didn't want us here you could have told us to bugger off then, love. What do you think of Juliana? She's quite cute, isn't she?" Hermione was avoiding his gaze and said nothing. "But she's nothing like you." Draco's hand slid under the table again, and grazed Hermione's thigh. Despite trying desperately not to be moved, Hermione's eyes drifted closed as she felt the touch she had been craving for weeks. "Her eyes don't shoot sparks when she looks at me, and she doesn't pull me to her like she'll die if we're not touching." He was leaning in close across the table, speaking in a low voice as his hand made its way up her thigh. "She doesn't challenge me to keep going, even when we both know we should –"

"Stop," Hermione breathed, and her eyes snapped open. She looked at him desperately, and he returned her gaze intently. "Please leave," she repeated softly.

Draco stared at her for a moment. "Is that what you really want?" he asked gently. Hermione nodded and stared at him earnestly. He stopped, and for a minute Hermione thought he was going to refuse, but then he nodded. "OK. I'll go." He stood up and moved to her side of the table, taking her hand and kissing it tenderly, sending shivers through her. "Thank you, Miss Granger." His expression was unfathomable, his eyes seemed to be filled with regret, and he let her hand go. Then he appeared to shake off whatever he was feeling, and became forcibly nonchalant. "Despite our differences, I must say I quite enjoyed the time we spent together," he said with a difficult grin. "But I shall not lament our parting. We were – what is the phrase? – we were two trains that passed in the night; nothing more, nothing less." With a small formal bow he turned and walked out of the Hogs Head, all thoughts of Juliana chased from his mind.

Nick returned with two glasses of firewhiskey, and he noted Draco's absence immediately. "So you finally got rid of him, then?" Nick asked with a grin. "I thought for a minute there he'd never leave." He glanced around in mock fear. "Oh God, you don't think he'll be back, do you?"

Hermione smiled sadly at her kind, handsome, perfect boyfriend. "No, I think he's gone for good, this time."


	12. A Lot Like Christmas

Chapter Twelve

A Lot Like Christmas

Excitement was mounting as the Christmas Ball drew nearer. The snow was almost a permanent fixture now, and the younger years seemed to spend every free moment outside throwing snowballs at each other. Professor Snape swore under his breath as the sounds of happy, playful screaming drifted down even as far as the dungeons. He blamed Filius Flitwick, who, in the spirit of Christmas, had decided to teach every student in the school how to charm snowballs to fly at any intended target. He comforted himself with the thought that he at least didn't have a window, so could avoid the worst of the holiday cheer. There was a knock at the door, and he wearily closed the heavy potions book in his hand. Things were heating up amongst Voldemort's followers, and he and Albus were having almost daily meetings to discuss their plans. "Come," he called.

But it wasn't the grey-haired headmaster that opened the door nervously and poked his head around the door. "Professor Snape, sir," Ron began.

Snape's lip curled as he took in the figure before him. "What is it?" he snapped. "I'm very busy."

"Yes sir." Ron hesitated in the doorway, still asking himself what on earth he was doing in the den of his most hated teacher.

"Well come in or leave, boy. Don't just hover," he said with a scowl.

Ron nodded and quickly entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He stood apprehensively, until Snape irritably told him to sit down. He took a seat quickly, and steeled himself for the following conversation. "I wouldn't normally come to you sir, but you're the only person who I know who knows..." He stopped again and Snape sighed, nodding and motioning for him to continue. Sensing his teacher's annoyance, Ron took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you could tell me what… you-know-who… was like, sir?"

Severus looked at him uncomprehendingly. "What on earth are you doing here, Weasley?" he spat out eventually.

Ron squirmed uncomfortably in his chair and blushed bright red as he stared at the ground. He wanted to flee, but he had started now, and felt he had to offer some kind of explanation. "I was just wondering and… well, you helped Hermione when she was sick and now she's going out with this boy from Ravenclaw, and…" he trailed off pathetically, unable to continue under Snape's piercing stare.

The dour potions master looked silently into Ron's eyes until the boy dropped his gaze to the floor, then he rose imposingly from his armchair and bore down on the boy. "I don't know why you are here, Mr. Weasley, and I do not know what Miss Granger has to do with this, but I can assure you that you do not wish to know what the Dark Lord is like. If you have personal problems with Miss Granger then I suggest you sort them out like an adult, and don't come to me asking silly questions about a powerful, dangerous and evil dark wizard. I repeat, you do not want to learn more about the Dark Lord unless it is how to defeat him." The professor's expression was very intense and, surprisingly, almost compassionate. "I think the best thing for you to do is to leave my office now, and find Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. He spoke slowly and quietly, and Ron needed no further encouragement. He almost ran out of the room, thanking the heavens that he got off so lightly.

He ran all the way to the Gryffindor common room, and when he entered, sat in an unoccupied chair in front of the fire. Professor Snape had shocked him out of his tantrum, and he understood how stupid he had been to contemplate going that far. Having been brought back to his senses, he wasn't surprised that most of the Gryffindors were giving him a wide berth. The potions master's words kept going around his head. _I suggest you sort them out like an adult… dangerous and evil dark wizard… find Miss Granger… you do not want to learn more about the Dark Lord…_

When Hermione finally came in through the portrait-hole hours later, Ron still hadn't moved. He stood quickly and walked up to her, blushing bright red and staring at the floor. Hermione waited, arms crossed, for him to speak. "I'm really sorry," he muttered. His friend didn't smile, didn't open up to him, but waited for more. "I was stupid, I guess I got a bit crazy there," he said, with an attempt at a laugh.

Hermione didn't join in. "Yes, you did."

Ron heard the hurt in her voice, and looked up to see that there were tears in Hermione's eyes. "It was just… not what I expected," he explained miserably. "But that's no excuse for how I behaved, and I'm sorry. Would you tell…" he hesitated, then with great effort, continued, "would you tell Nick that I'm sorry as well?"

Hermione watched him carefully, trying to control her emotions, while Ron waited hopefully for a positive response. Suddenly giving way to her tears, Hermione pulled him into a rough hug. "I thought you'd never talk to me again, you idiot. Of course I forgive you. And Ron, I'm so sorry about –"

"Don't," he interrupted quickly. "Thank you for forgiving me, and I promise I won't make life difficult for you and Nick anymore, but please don't apologise to me. I'm not really – ready to think about you two, yet." Hermione nodded in understanding, and the two of them hugged again.

"Glad to see you two finally came to your senses," came a voice from behind you. Ron and Hermione broke apart and turned to see Harry and Ginny with their arms around each other, both smiling delightedly.

Ron shuffled towards Harry, looking shamefacedly at the ground. "Listen, I'm sorry, mate. I was stupid." Harry grinned and nodded, punching him lightly in the shoulder. Something hit the window hard and all four looked towards it. In unspoken agreement they made their way downstairs and outside, starting a snowball fight with the kids who had enchanted the snow to hit their common room window. Their laughter drifted up towards the pleasantly empty room.

888

As the suits of armour became more enthusiastic in their singing of Christmas carols, so did the students in their talk of the coming ball. It seemed like Hermione couldn't go anywhere without being subjected to the excited chatter of girls discussing dresses and hair-dos. Ginny was more animated at the thought of it, though, and she kept telling Hermione to cheer up. "This is the first ball which Harry and I will attend as an official couple," she said as if that was reason enough for her friend to be excited.

Hermione laughed. "And that's supposed to work _me_ into a sweat worrying about which dress I'm going to wear?" she asked with a grin.

Ginny nodded as if it was obvious, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "But of course. And you've got yourself a particularly tasty date too, don't forget. One of the girls in Hufflepuff asked me today if you were still going out with, and I quote, 'that dreamy Ravenclaw'. She seemed quite devastated when I said you were." She noticed the shadow that passed over Hermione's eyes. "And Draco? Has he got anyone to go with?"

This was the first time his name had been mentioned between them since their conversation in the darkened classroom, and Hermione gave her friend a look when she used the boy's first name. "I would imagine _Malfoy_ has girls falling over themselves to ask him out," she said in an attempt at scorn. "I hope he goes with Millicent Bulstrode." This time she sounded sincere, and both girls collapsed into giggles at the thought.

"So you're still not over him, then?" Sometimes Ginny was far too good at knowing what Hermione was thinking for comfort.

Hermione sighed. "I think I'm going to wear an empire-cut dress in maroon that flares out at the bottom," she said in a high, silly voice. Ginny's smile was serious, though, and Hermione knew she wasn't going to be able to joke her way out of the conversation. "I honestly don't know what's wrong with me, Ginny. I've got the most wonderful boyfriend who would do anything for me, and yet I can't get that fucking Slytherin out of my head."

Ginny sighed, and put down the dress she was holding. "Hermione, do you think he loves you? Because if he doesn't, by all means keep fighting this. There's no point in clinging to something that isn't there. But if he loves you as much as you obviously love him, then I honestly don't know what the hell you're doing."

Hermione looked at her friend in surprise. She didn't know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't a rant. "I – what do you mean?"

"Do you know how rare it is to find someone that you love who actually loves you back? I found it with Harry, my mum and dad have it, and Ron would give anything to have that with you." Hermione looked away, suddenly ashamed. "I don't mean to upset you, Hermione. I can understand how hard this is, really. But if Draco loves you, I mean really loves you – enough to betray his father's wishes, to go against everything he has ever been taught about the way of the world, even – then you'd be far less intelligent that everyone thinks to give that up."

The older girl sat in silence, taken aback and speechless. She thought about their last meeting. "I think I already have," she said finally. Ginny looked at her friend questioningly, but Hermione just shook her head. "It doesn't matter anyway. Whatever Draco may have felt for me, if indeed he ever truly did, he is beyond my reach now."

Ginny reached out and took her best friend's hand gently in her own. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. What are you going to do now?"

Hermione took a deep breath and looked at Ginny determinedly. "I'm going to get through this day, then through the week, and then through the term. And then, when the year is finally over, I'm going to get on with my life and try and forget that I was ever stupid enough to fall in love with Draco Malfoy." She smiled bravely. "Hey, it's just a school-girl crush, right? Now, what were the dress choices again?"

888

The day of the ball finally came. While the first, second and third years complained about not being allowed to go, the older students – at least the female ones – had begun the strenuous and unfathomable process of making themselves beautiful long before breakfast began. It seemed like an age had passed by the time the girls eventually began coming down the stairs to meet their dates. Draco smiled at the redhead as she came down the stairs. "You look stunning," he said, kissing her hand and making her heart flutter.

Since their meeting in Hogsmeade, Draco had resolved to put Hermione out of his mind. She had made it very clear that she did not want anything to do with him, and his concern for her well-being had finally overtaken his desire for her. As a result, Juliana had been enjoying a remarkably more romantic and passionate Draco Malfoy. Never before had the boy been so considerate to any girl he was seeing – never before had he even been seeing just one girl at once. She had forgiven him easily after his casual disregard for her in the Crow Pub, and she had been revelling in the attention he had lavished on her since then. She smiled gracefully at Draco, who looked outstanding in his smart, expensive dress robes, and took his arm.

The Great Hall was beautiful, and as different from usual as it always was during a ball. The sun had not quite set, and the enchanted ceiling was a dramatic mix of reds and pinks, as the stars struggled to shine through. Candles floated above the small, circular tables, and Latin Rose were playing soft, mood-setting music while the students entered. It was the perfect night. Draco led his date towards a table where Blaise Zabini sat with Emma Shaw. If a Slytherin wasn't going to date a girl from his own house, he had to choose a Ravenclaw or be ostracised forever, and that was what Blaise had done. Draco didn't know the girl, but she had to be fairly sensible for Blaise to be going out with her. He smiled politely at her, and nodded at his friend. "What do you think, then?" he said, indicating the decorations.

Blaise shrugged. "It's alright, I suppose. Just the same old hall at the end of the day really, isn't it?"

Juliana's eyes grew wide as she looked at the boy. "Blaise, this is absolutely wonderful. How on earth can you say it's the same as usual?" He shrugged again. Juliana rolled her eyes and smiled conspiratorially at the other girl. "Boys," she said with playful contempt. Emma Shaw just smiled faintly. For her part, Emma tended to agree with Blaise. Not feeling that was an adequate response, Juliana placed her hand on Draco's. "You think it's beautiful, don't you, darling?"

Draco's eyes were not on the enchanted ceiling, or the graceful band, or the warm snow that had started to drift down on them. "Gorgeous," he agreed. Across the hall, Hermione Granger stood wearing an elegant floor-length gown that seemed to make her hair shine and her eyes even brighter than usual. She was laughing at something Nick had said to her, while Ron stood some distance away talking to Harry and trying not to look their way.

But he was able to content himself for the most part with the senseless chatter of Juliana, and the slightly less mind-numbing conversation he found with Blaise and Emma. He got through dinner with only infrequent glances in Hermione's direction, and was able to maintain an acceptable level of interaction while they ate. Latin Rose had retired once the meal had sparkled onto the plates, and now Christmas carols drifted in through the open doors, faintly audible above the buzz of conversation that filled the Great Hall. Once the sun had fully set, and the plates where clean, Latin Rose took to the stage again. Remembering his manners, he turned to Juliana and tried in vain to appreciate the way the moonlight shone on her red hair. "Would you do me the honour of dancing with me, Juliana?" She simpered and took his hand, and he led her onto the dance floor.

Draco held her close as he spun her around the room gracefully, just as his father had made sure he would be able to. But for all Juliana's comments on how perfect the night was, he could not stop his gaze drifting to the brunette who was snuggled close into Nick Poltice's chest as they swayed in time to the music. Juliana said something to him, and he had to force his eyes to look away from the Gryffindor and into hers. "I'm getting tired," she repeated. "Shall we have a drink and step outside?"

Her smile promised much more than a walk under the stars, and he tried to be happy about it. _Come on, Draco. Where's the boy that would have fucked her and forgotten about her?_ He got them both a drink and followed her as she made her way towards the lake. It was deserted, and Juliana sat on a bench that had been placed conveniently beneath a rose bower. He handed her one of the glasses, and she took it gratefully. Then she threw it in his face, following it up quickly with a sharp slap. Draco stood up as if he had been sat in an electric chair, and stared at her uncomprehendingly. "Juliana, what the hell?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "I'm sorry, Malfoy, but you obviously need a serious wake-up call. What the fuck are you doing, using me as a way of getting over this mudblood fascination you seem to have?" Draco opened his mouth to speak, and she shook her head, angrily. "I'm worth more than that, you son-of-a-bitch. And even if I weren't, that's a stupid trick to pull anyway. If you're in love with the girl, as you so clearly are, you won't be able to get over it just by taking some other girl to a fucking dance."

He was going to deny it all, but was brought up short by the phrase _'in love with the girl'_. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't _love_ her. I'm just…"

Juliana smiled sadly at him and took out her wand, pointing it at his dress-robes. He instinctively moved to protect himself, but all she did was dry him off. "I'm not unaware of the fact that I'm a very sexy girl, Draco. And your reputation as the bad-ass who thinks with his cock precedes you, so a casual observer might ask why you looked so unhappy at the thought of leaving with a girl who had been throwing herself at you all night." Draco looked questioningly at her, and she shrugged. "Let's not pretend that you hadn't noticed. You can't blame a girl for trying, right? I don't know how you ever managed to fall in love with a mudblood Gryffindor, but there it is. I've seen the way you've been looking at her. I'm going back into the dance to find someone who might give me the time of day." She rose and strode off into the darkness towards the school, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.

It had shocked him to hear Juliana's assertion, but after she left he sat alone on the bench for some time turning it over in his mind. Despite all the strange new feelings that had sneaked up on him recently, despite the fact that he seemed to have had a personality transplant, despite his inability to tear his eyes away from a certain know-it-all Gryffindor, he had never once considered that he might love her. He ran over the term's events in his mind. Had he loved her when he first saw her sitting in the Crow's Pub? No, she was just a challenge back then, and he had certainly delighted in tormenting her. Was it when she showed him just how good she was at getting revenge in the duelling club? Definitely not, he thought. But try as he might, Draco just couldn't work out when exactly he had changed, or what it was that was different. The only thing he could be really sure of was that this development certainly wouldn't have a positive effect on his life. _Using me as a way of getting over this __mudblood__ fascination you have… _What the hell was his father going to say?

"Draco?"

His heart leapt up at the familiar voice and he almost rose to tell her everything. He almost allowed himself to run to her, to sweep her up in his arms. But it was as though someone had put a total-body bind on him. All he could do was remain where he was, staring into the lake while the woman of his dreams stood behind him. "Granger," he said in a slow, deliberate drawl. Why had he used her last name?

"Nick and I aren't together anymore."

He could hear the hope in her voice, and yet he was still unable to go to her. "Shame. He was a nice guy. A bit wet around the edges, maybe, but…" He trailed off. He didn't know what to say. He was sat meters away from the girl he loved, but he remained immobile.

"Ginny made me understand something. I wasn't being fair to him."

Now she was more uncertain, he could tell. She had expected – or maybe hoped for? – a different reaction from him. He wanted to kiss her until the sun came up, but still he sat there. "Seems to me like Weasley needs to get her head screwed on straight. There's not a man in the world that would complain about being used for sex."

"I – that's not what I mean." Yes, she was definitely feeling wrong-footed by his reaction. He could hear her footsteps crunching in the snow, could almost feel the heat coming from her body as she drew closer. "It wasn't fair to use him as a way of getting over someone else. Someone that I think I might love."

He closed his eyes and, with immense effort, stopped himself from turning his head to her. "And what did he say when you told him that?"

"He said it didn't come as a shock. He said he had been waiting for me to be honest with myself." She drew even closer, and Draco could smell a hint of her perfume in the air.

He gripped the bench and felt the rough wood under his hands, willing himself to stand and face her. Willing himself to remain seated. He could picture her in his mind's eye. She was probably chewing nervously on her bottom lip like she did in class when she had a difficult spell to cast. Her eyes were probably conveying hurt, confusion. She needed someone to hold her, to tell her that she had made the right decision, to comfort her and kiss her like there was no-one else in the world. Draco gripped the bench and stayed where he was. Screw his father, what would the other Slytherins do to him? "And you've done that now, have you?" His voice was cold and indifferent. Why was he drawing this out?

"Now? Yes, I suppose I have." She had given up on him. He could hear it in her voice. He urged her with his mind to leave him alone, to never come back. This wasn't fair; she wasn't considering his responsibilities to his name, his house, his father. She had no right to be upset, he thought angrily.

He was silent for a long time. "You'd better go and find this mystery love of yours then, hadn't you?"

Hermione said nothing.

Draco, his eyes still closed, listened to her slowly turn and walk away from him. He waited until the sound had faded completely before he allowed himself finally to turn his head and watch her.

She was just a shadow in the distance now.

Draco tried to relax. He loosened his grip on the bench and saw blood on his hands. There was a splinter buried deep in his right palm. He ignored his wand, and tried to pry the wood out with his left hand. He winced as he removed it, and his hand began to throb. But at least he was free from the contamination and infection the wood could have caused if he had let it remain.

He turned his head again and pretended to himself that he wasn't looking for her.

She had gone.


	13. Blowing Out The Cobwebs

Chapter Thirteen

  
Blowing out the Cobwebs

The Christmas holidays went far too quickly for Hermione. She had smiled and laughed her way through the present giving, attended the service with her parents, and played a seemingly never-ending number of muggle games promising fun for all the family. But all too soon it was time to go back to Hogwarts, and that meant she would be seeing Draco Malfoy again. She knew she wasn't over him yet: when she woke up on Christmas morning, hidden amongst the pile of books that she always received from her family and friends, there was a small package wrapped in green and silver paper. Her treacherous heart had leapt at the sight, but it had just been a pair of earrings from her parents.

Almost a month had passed since the Christmas Ball, and she still couldn't believe how stupid she had been to think that Draco might ever have loved her. She realised now that she had never been anything more than a game for him; a challenge. As soon as she laid her feelings on the table and he knew that he had won, he had cast her aside as though she were worth nothing. It was harder than ever to deal with, because she had known what he was like and still she had chosen to trust him. Hermione had sent herself into a shame spiral throughout the holidays, and blamed no-one but herself for what had happened.

So she was determined to throw herself more into her school-life than ever before when she returned, and only Ginny could ever have guessed how she was feeling as she laughed at Harry's jokes and told Ron off for not revising enough. "But the exams are still months away," Ron protested as he miserably watched his friend drawing up a time-table for him as they sat together in the common room.

"That doesn't mean you can't start early, Ron. These exams are very important, and you're not going to be able to copy from me when we take them." She tapped her wand to make the subjects flash in different colours, and handed it to him. "Have you finished you Defence homework?"

Ron groaned and looked over at Ginny and Harry, who were watching the scene play out with grins on their faces. "I don't know what you're laughing about," he said to his best friend. "She'll do one for you next."

The smile disappeared from Harry's face at that, and he quickly turned to Ginny. "Kiss me," he said with mock desperation. "She'll be so disgusted with our public display of affection that she'll forget all about exams." He threw himself onto the redhead, who tried to push him off her, laughing at his antics.

Hermione smiled reluctantly. "Alright, I promise. There'll be no more exam talk," she said, raising her hands in defeat. "This evening," she added with a sly grin.

Ron shook his head. "You're like a woman possessed," he said. "You do realise it's only January, right? The exams are almost half a year away."

"Sorry, there's no exam talk this evening," Hermione responded sweetly. "Not even if it's about how much time there is until the exams."

Ron laughed good-naturedly at her answer. He had definitely cheered up since Nick had been pushed out of the picture, even though he hadn't renewed his overtures to Hermione. Although she felt horrible for it, Hermione hoped he wouldn't try again with her for a long time. Sometimes, in her lowest moments, she wondered if she should give him a try. As she watched him begin a violent game of wizard's chess with Harry, she admitted that he wouldn't be a bad boyfriend. He was kind, he made her laugh, and there was no doubt that he loved her. But she knew she couldn't be in a relationship with him when she was still so hopelessly head over heels for someone else. That was exactly why her relationship with Nick hadn't worked.

She watched as Ron urged his knight on in a fight with Harry's rook, and sighed lightly. She would have to find something else to occupy her: something that didn't involve callously playing with someone else's emotions. "Shall we go flying?" Ginny said suddenly, looking up at Hermione as though she had read her mind.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. She hadn't been flying since Nick had got her off the ground last term, and the thought of trying it again hadn't once crossed her mind. But the suggestion caught her interest, and she found herself remembering how exhilarating it had been once she had actually got up in the air. A genuine smile crossed her face, and she nodded slowly.

"Excellent," Ginny said with a grin. She leaned over and kissed Harry's cheek. "We're going out for a bit. See you later," she said. Harry barely looked up from the battle he was playing out against Ron on the chess board.

"OK," he said absently.

Ginny and Hermione had been gone more than fifteen minutes before her words finally sank in, and Harry looked up, frowning. "Did Ginny say she was going flying with Hermione?"

Ron shrugged, not taking his attention off the board. "Dunno," he said. "Bit cold for it."

Outside, Hermione and Ginny were wrapped up warmly against the evening air. Hermione was holding Ginny's broom doubtfully. "Are you sure you don't mind using the school broom?" she asked reluctantly.

"I'm sure," said Ginny, in a tone that brooked no disagreement. "You've only properly flown once in your life. You can't be riding a half-broken school broom if you want to get the full benefit of flying."

Without waiting for a response, she pushed off the ground and flew into the air. Hermione, closing her eyes and trying to remember all the tips Nick had given her, muttered a silent prayer and pushed off. When she opened her eyes, she was hovering next to Ginny, wind whipping her hair back and putting colour into her cheeks.

Ginny pushed forwards and looked back to see Hermione following her. "Isn't this great?" she shouted over her shoulder. "It really blows out the cobwebs!" She turned a loop in the air, and then went into a sharp dive, whooping as the pulled back up to join her friend.

"It is fun," Hermione admitted. She cautiously went into her own, much shallower dive, and returned to Ginny, eyes shining with exhilaration.

"Brilliant," Ginny said. "You'll be over him in no time."

There was no need for her to elaborate, and Hermione appreciated the effort that her friend was making to take her mind of Malfoy. Together they circled the Quidditch pitch, and then Ginny started teaching the older girl a few tricks. Hermione wondered at how quickly she got the hang of flying once she had moved past her initial fear.

When they finally touched down, darkness was closing in. Hermione's eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed. "This is the plan," Ginny told her decisively. "Whenever you find the Slytherin scumbag trying to worm his way into your thoughts, you come out here and let the fresh air blow all memory of him away. If you can't get out to fly, you just remember what it's like when you're up in the air. OK?"

Laughing, Hermione nodded. "Is that what you did when Harry was refusing to acknowledge your existence?" she asked agreeably.

With a grin, Ginny shrugged. "How do you think I got so good at Quidditch?"

888

Professor Snape was in the headmaster's office when he felt the unmistakeable burn on his arm. He didn't complain; he just stood up and excused himself, before disapparating. The snow was just as crisp and fresh here as it was at Hogwarts, but there was an unmistakeable atmosphere of darkness that made Snape feel cold in a way that had nothing to do with the subzero temperatures. Already, men and women stood, hooded and masked, and more were arriving every moment. Snape barely took in his surroundings as he approached the tall, snake-like creature and fell to his knees, kissing his master's robes, and rose again to move into his place in the circle.

Before he could walk away, Voldemort put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Snape," he said in his low, sibilant voice. Severus turned his eyes dutifully towards the other man and stared deep into the red pupils for what felt like an eternity, before Voldemort nodded and allowed him to move away.

When the circle was more or less full, Voldemort stepped into the centre and slowly turned, taking in every man and woman that stood there. Even the air was silent and tense. Finally, the shrill voice pierced the silence. "We have waited too long, and done too little. The boy lives when I should have his head proudly displayed from my rightful place as overseer of the magical world." His servants squirmed a little and looked at the ground, each hoping to avoid blame for the mistakes that had been made. "But we must not be dismayed. The prophecy, the stone, the chamber, these were the products of small minds, unable to imagine a more powerful weapon." Of course, no-one would dare point out that the prophecy had been Voldemort's idea in the first place. "The weapon I speak of, naturally, is love." His supporters glanced at each other, at a loss to understand why their master had suddenly started spouting the same rubbish that usually came out of Dumbledore's mouth.

He smiled sardonically. "Lucius Malfoy," he said suddenly in a commanding voice.

A man somewhere to Snape's right jerked his head up and hesitantly stepped forward. He bowed low, and when he straightened up he was still staring at the ground. "My lord?"

"News of a relatively interesting nature has recently reached me concerning your son."

Lucius flinched, but he kept his eyes down. "My son, my lord?"

"Does the name Granger mean anything to you, Lucius?" Voldemort's lip curled into a mocking smile, and some of the surrounding death eaters exchanged knowing looks.

But there was no spark of understanding in Lucius' expression. His face contorted with disgust. "She is a mudblood in my son's year, my lord. But my son knows to stay well away from her sort."

"You should take more interest your son's affairs, Lucius. It appears that young Draco has been enjoying a relationship with the very girl you are so sure he would avoid."

Some of the death eaters laughed mockingly at Lucius' obvious shock. Others simply looked revolted at the revelation. "My lord, I can't imagine who would ever suggest such a thing to you, but I am certain that it cannot be –"

"My sources are sound," Lord Voldemort said sharply.

Lucius bowed low, his face twisted with anger that could have been aimed at either Voldemort or at his son. "Of course, my lord," he replied quietly. "What would you have me do?"

Voldemort's mouth turned up into a cruel smile, but he shook his head. "We will discuss it in private after this evening's events," he said softly. "My loyal death eaters, at this moment I have another task for you all." He jabbed his wand at a pile of rags that lay in front of him, and it became clear that the fabric had been hiding two small children, bound tightly and looking up at the masked revellers with terror.

888

To her surprise, Hermione found that Ginny's plan wasn't a bad one. As the days passed, she found that she was thinking about Malfoy less and less. She still felt an unmistakeable stab in her chest whenever she saw him, but as long as he wasn't in her direct line of sight she found that she was able to block him out of her mind. She started spending a lot of time outside, and had discovered that flying alone was a very good way of relaxing.

One bright Saturday, long before most of her house was awake, she slipped outside and grabbed a broom from the school shed. The sun had just finished its slow rise, and the ground was crisp with frost underneath her feet. She took a deep breath in, enjoying the fresh smell of the morning air. She pushed off, and it was only once she was in the air that she realised she hadn't thought once about Malfoy since waking up. She hadn't come out here to clear her mind; she had come out because she was starting to truly enjoy flying. It was a strange feeling, for a girl who had been terrified of brooms just six months ago.

She flew lazily over the Forbidden Forrest, turning in wide arcs and occasionally dipping close to the trees, brushing the topmost leaves with her feet. She laughed out loud, and urged the broom higher again. Finally, a glance at the sky told her that it was probably time to go back in for breakfast, and she turned reluctantly to fly back towards the school.

Feeling content, and completely at peace with the world, she put the broom back in the school shed. Suddenly, she was face to face with Draco Malfoy, putting his own broom away, and her calmness shattered in an instant. It was a struggle, but she managed to keep her expression neutral as she walked past him. "You fly, Granger?"

He sounded so casual, like he hadn't broken her heart and betrayed her, and she wanted to hex him into oblivion. Instead, she turned and gave him a cool smile. "Now and then," she replied, before making to walk away again.

But Malfoy wasn't going to let her go that easily. "Hold on, I'll walk back with you," he said eagerly.

Hermione was so taken aback by this easy, friendly persona that she actually waited for him while he put his own broom away. He looked oddly relieved when he came out of the shed and saw that she was waiting for him. Without a word, Hermione started to walk briskly towards the Castle. She would walk with him if she had to, but she wouldn't stoop to making conversation.

Malfoy wouldn't be so easily put off, though. He smiled genuinely in her direction, and glanced back towards the shed, on the edge of the Quidditch pitch. "I always thought you hated it," he said.

"Nick taught me," she replied tightly after a long pause.

He nodded. "So have you played any Quidditch at all, or is it just the flying so far?"

"Flying." With any luck, he would pick up on her reticence and realise that she had no interest in talking with him.

Unfortunately for her, he seemed either unable or unwilling to pick up on the hint. "Are you interested in Quidditch? Maybe we could set up a friendly game, some time."

"No, thank you." She kept her eyes trained on the entrance to the castle. He would leave her alone as soon as they reached the school, she was sure. He wouldn't risk his reputation by being seen with a Gryffindor.

"You should think about it," he said. "If you like flying, you'll love Quidditch. You'd probably make a good chaser." He left a pause then said, "You're good with balls, after all." She shot him a look of pure venom at that, but he just grinned good-naturedly. "I couldn't resist," he said apologetically. "But I mean it about Quidditch. You're missing out on a good opportunity. People never really understand the pure joy of flying until they've done it in some sort of competitive capacity."

They had reached the entrance hall, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "OK," she said rigidly. "I'm going to have breakfast now."

Again, Draco's face lit up with a sincere smile. "Me too," he said. "I'll walk you to the Great Hall."

He continued to chatter about Quidditch and flying, seemingly oblivious to the incredulous stares they were getting from other people in the corridors. When they finally reached the Great Hall and had to part ways to go to their individual house tables, he waved cheerily to her. "See you later," he called out. "Have a think about the Quidditch game, OK?"

Hermione nodded, feeling dazed, and slid into an empty seat at the Gryffindor table. She knew Draco had several facets to his personality, but this was one she had never dreamed existed. He had been so friendly and easy-going. She thought back over the conversation, and couldn't remember a single snide or sarcastic comment crossing his lips, excluding the balls remark. Even that had seemed light-hearted and playful. She shook her head, and stared at him across the hall in amazement.

Ron and Harry joined her shortly after she had sat down. "Where were you this morning?" Harry asked. "Lavender said you were gone before any of them had even woken up."

Hermione shrugged. "I was out flying," she said vaguely, still gazing in Malfoy's direction.

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice, and Ron burst out laughing. "You – you were flying?" Ron spluttered, grinning. "Good one, Hermione. We all know you hate brooms more than Snape hates Gryffindors."

"I don't," Hermione protested. "I've been going out flying recently." She had been keeping it quiet from other people, though. She had been afraid of causing exactly this kind of reaction. If it hadn't been for the fact that she had been distracted by Draco, she wouldn't have mentioned it at that moment either.

"Brilliant," Ron said, smacking his hand on the table. "Hermione Granger goes flying for fun." His raucous laughter subsided into chuckles, and Hermione's expression grew indignant.

"Yes, that's right. I'm quite good at it, as a matter of fact."

Ron didn't notice the edge to Hermione's voice, and seemed to think this was an elaborate joke she was playing. "I'm sure you are. Maybe we should all have a game of Quidditch one day. Would you prefer seeker or beater?" he collapsed into giggles again, making Hermione frown.

"Actually, Draco Malfoy suggested we have a game earlier," she said clearly, raising her voice. "I'm thinking of taking him up on the offer." She wasn't thinking anything of the sort, of course, but she couldn't help goading Ron.

The chatter at the Gryffindor table stopped abruptly, and Hermione flushed as she realised all eyes were on her. Harry was staring at her open-mouthed. Ron stopped laughing, and shook his head. "Don't even joke about something like that, Hermione. You'll bring Slytherin bad luck down on us all," he said with mock horror.

Harry chuckled, and Hermione smiled reluctantly. "Well, stop laughing at me, then. I have been going out flying a bit recently, and I don't think I'm too bad."

"Seriously?" Ron asked dubiously.

"Yes," Hermione replied in an exasperated tone. "I'm not completely useless, you know." She laughed at his sceptical expression and stood up. "I'm going to the library. I'll see you later."

As she walked towards the door, Draco stood and walked quickly to catch up with her. "Did you mean it when you said you were thinking of having a game with me?" he asked hopefully.

She glanced over at him and rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't. Shouldn't you be getting back to your table before the rest of Slytherin lynch you for talking to a Gryffindor?"

Draco looked over his shoulder at his house table and shrugged. "Like I care what they think. I like you, Hermione. I realised just how much over Christmas. So what if I lose my family and friends because of it?"

They had reached the corridor now, and Hermione turned to face him. "Do you know; I just don't believe a word you say anymore. I can't think why." She raised an eyebrow and turned to walk away.

"I'm not giving up, Hermione. I don't care if I have to wear red and gold for a year before you trust me again. I'll do whatever it takes."

Hermione shook her head disbelievingly. "You're playing some kind of angle, Malfoy. I forgot who you were for a while last term, but I've remembered now. I know who you are, and it's not the kind of person I'm interested in."

She left him alone in the corridor, and he sighed in frustration. His father was most definitely not going to be happy with him.

888

Despite her offhand dismissal of it, Hermione couldn't help but wonder what had caused this abrupt change in Draco's personality. She was sure he had to be tricking her in some way, but she couldn't think what it could be. She said as much to Ginny that afternoon, having found a secluded spot in the courtyard where they could talk in private. "I assumed he was just playing a game with me, making me fall in love with him so he could reject me. But he already did that, so I don't understand what he wants this time."

Ginny shrugged. "Maybe he was telling the truth when he said he missed you." Hermione raised her eyebrows doubtfully. "I know, it doesn't sound like Malfoy. But you never know what love might do to people. If he really does love you..." she trailed off and shrugged again.

"I know," Hermione said softly. She was quiet for a long time then, and Ginny said nothing, allowing her time to think. "Do you know what I wish?" Ginny shook her head, and waited. "I just wish I could trust him. I could cope with everything else – his family, him being a Slytherin, the way Harry and Ron might react, even the fact that he's generally an arsehole –everything. But I can't be with him if I can't trust him." She punched the root of the tree that they were leaning against. "It's so fucking unfair," she said violently.

"You need to talk to him," Ginny said gently. "Tell him how you feel."

"I did that, remember? And it ended badly." Hermione shook her head. "It's typical, isn't it? I spend a month trying to get him out of my head, and just when I think I've succeeded, he slithers back in again."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears that she angrily blinked away, and Ginny silently put her arms around her friend and hugged her tightly.


	14. Duty

Chapter Fourteen

  
Duty

The next couple of weeks were very strange for Hermione and her friends. All of a sudden, Draco Malfoy was being friendly. He joined Hermione whenever he could, walking her to classes and stopping to chat to her in the Great Hall. And, unfortunately for Hermione, this odd new behaviour wasn't going unnoticed by her classmates. Shortly after it began, Harry and Ron had sat down with Hermione to have what Harry tactfully called, 'a little chat'.

"We're not saying we think you've done anything to make him turn all friendly," Harry said in an infuriatingly calm tone of voice. "We just wanted to know if there's any light you can shed on the situation."

Hermione took a deep breath and counted to ten before answering. "I've told already; I don't know what game he's playing. For all I know this could just be some bizarre kind of Slytherin dare."

Ron sat up, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Do you think maybe he's trying to spy on you, mate?" He looked at Harry with wide eyes. "Like, he hopes that you'll give something away to do with our preparations for battle?"

"Maybe," Harry said thoughtfully. "His father is a death eater, after all."

"For God's sake, don't be so ridiculous. He knows we would never let anything slip about V-Voldemort while he's around. He's just playing a weird little game that only he understands. That's all." Hermione was feeling flushed and unhappy. It was bad enough that her own mind was in turmoil over Draco's new behaviour. It made it ten times worse to hear her best friends talking it over constantly as well.

After a pause, Ron opened his mouth again. "Are you certain that you didn't do anything to him?"

Hermione turned to him, frustration written across her face, but before she could respond, Harry stepped into the opening. "He doesn't mean anything really bad, just... maybe a Confundus?"

"Imperius Curse?"

"Maybe you slipped him some love potion to make him less of a threat to the cause?"

"Oh God, you didn't shag him did you?" Ron asked, horror etched across his features.

Hermione flushed, and stood up forcefully. "No, I didn't shag him, Ronald. Neither did I slip him a love potion or Confund him," she snapped at Harry. "And believe it or not, I'm not generally in the habit of going around performing Unforgiveables either, not even on people you're not particularly fond of." This last was to Ron again. She glared at the both before turning on her heel and storming out of the portrait hole.

Ginny took one look at Hermione's angry expression as she raged passed her, and glanced over at Ron and Harry. With a sigh, she made her way over to them. "What did you do?" she asked them matter-of-factly, as she flopped onto the sofa beside Harry.

"Nothing," Ron said defensively. "We just asked her why Malfoy was hanging around her so much."

Ginny raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Harry, who shrank a little under her gaze. "S'all we did," he mumbled. Under Ginny's imperious glare, he shrugged. "Maybe we asked her if she'd put him under the imperious curse or slipped him a love potion," he admitted pathetically.

"You didn't?" Harry nodded, looking ashamed. "You idiots," Ginny said violently, hitting each of them on the arm for good measure. "Don't you think she's as confused as you two are by his behaviour?" Or even more so, she silently added to herself. "You can't go around accusing your best friend of that kind of thing."

"Still," Ron muttered mutinously, "we were only asking."

Ginny turned her glare onto her brother, and he stared into the fire, avoiding eye-contact with her. "Sorry? I didn't quite catch that."

Ron shrugged, but didn't repeat himself. Ginny rolled her eyes at his insensitivity, but didn't push any further. She supposed it wasn't entirely their fault, since they didn't know everything that was going on in Hermione's life right now.

Meanwhile, Hermione had started to cool down. She was coming to the same conclusion as Ginny was up in the common room, and she knew it wasn't fair of her to get so upset with them when they didn't know the whole story. The more reasonable side of her knew that, if she was honest with herself, she had actually been so angry with them because Ron had hit on exactly the right thing, and she was worried that she might give something away.

With a sigh, she turned and started making her way back to the common room. But at the end of the corridor, Draco Malfoy popped out and started walking with her. "This is getting really old, Malfoy," she said without looking at him.

"I know," he admitted with a grin. "But you can't ignore me forever."

"You're starting to cause problems between me and my friends," she told him plaintively.

"Why? I'm just being friendly." He reminded her of a particularly energetic puppy, and she couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought. "A grin! I knew I'd get one eventually," he said triumphantly.

She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help laughing despite herself. She stopped, and turned to face him in the corridor. "What do you want? Just tell me what I have to do to get you to go away."

"Go flying with me," he said.

"Now?"

"Yes. Come on, it's a lovely day. Go flying with me," he persisted. "Then, I promise, if it's what you really want, I'll leave you alone."

Hermione sighed, but she knew she would agree to his request. It could have been much worse, after all. "Alright, let's get this over with."

Very shortly, they were outside, pulling brooms from the school shed. Draco kept his eyes on the clouds, saying nothing as they rose into the air together. He glanced furtively at her, and quickly looked away when she turned her head to meet his gaze. She allowed herself a small smile. Maybe Ginny had been right. Maybe he really did like her, after all.

"It's nice, being out here with you."

Hermione grunted noncommittally.

"It's been a while since it's been just us, together. It feels like the old days."

"You mean the ones where we were shagging behind our friends' backs, and we could barely exchange two words to each other without a hex or two thrown in for good measure?" Hermione raised an eyebrow as she stared at him doubtfully.

Draco tilted his head to the side and grinned slightly. "Well, yeah. You didn't find that just a little bit fun?"

Hermione shook her head. "I really didn't."

"Come on, it was invigorating. Admit it. You've never felt more alive than those few weeks when we were involved."

"A few weeks?" Hermione snorted. "As I recall it wasn't exactly a few weeks. We did it twice, Malfoy. The rest was just me making you jealous and you making me jealous, with a few really violent curses thrown in for good measure." Draco grinned at her, but he said nothing. She frowned, not understanding the reason for his expression. "What?" she asked finally. When he still didn't answer, she repeated her question more forcefully. "Tell me what you're smiling at me like that for."

Draco shrugged. "You just admitted you were trying to make me jealous," he said before speeding ahead of her on his Nimbus.

Huffing at his cockiness, she urged her own broom on. "That's not what I meant," she said defiantly when she finally caught up with him.

"If you say so," he said, raising an eyebrow. "And you still can't say it."

"Say what?" she asked, genuinely baffled.

"You know," he said, smiling suggestively. "We did 'it'. You still can't say it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine. We fucked twice. Happy now?"

Draco's expression grew serious. "Not really," he admitted quietly. He took one hand off of his broom and reached out for hers. "I'd be happier if we'd made love." He looked intently into her eyes, and she stared back at him, hovering in mid-air.

After a moment she shook her head, trying to clear it. "Unfortunately, you have to be in love to do that though, right?" She pushed forwards again, resuming the forward-motion and forcing Draco to keep up with her if he wanted to continue the conversation.

"Aren't we?" Hermione didn't answer him. She kept her eyes focused on the horizon, and acted as though he hadn't even asked the question. "Alright, that was unfair," he acknowledged. "I was a total arsehole the night of the Christmas Ball; I know that. And before that I wasn't exactly in the running for any 'best boyfriend' award, either. But you've got to understand what was going through my mind. My father would have tortured me into oblivion if he'd found out that I was considering dating a mudblood." He quickly put his hand out to prevent an attack. "His words, not mine," he said defensively. "And that's if he'd got to me first. If the dark lord had found out, my life wouldn't have been worth living."

"And? Nothing's changed, right? So what's brought on this sudden about-face? What's with the bouncy, 'I just want to be best friends' routine?"

For the first time, Draco looked as though he didn't have an answer for her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye while she waited for a response, but he seemed to be completely at a loss. Finally, he just shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe I thought that if you saw me trying to be nice to your friends, you'd realise that I'm not the same person I was four months ago." He shrugged, helplessly. "Maybe I just realised that it doesn't matter if I'm safe from my father and the dark lord, if the price is being away from you. What's the point of living a life without you in it?"

For a moment, Hermione's resolve almost crumbled. For a moment, she almost clambered off her own broom and onto his so she could give him the most passionate kiss of his life. But his eyes flickered away from hers, and a feeling of dread filled her. For all she knew, this was a boy with the dark mark emblazoned on his arm. He was someone who referred to Voldemort as the dark lord, for God's sake.

She smiled sadly at him, and reached out to take his hand in hers. She felt horrible, knowing she was the one who was going to crush the hope that shone so clearly in his eyes. "Let's not beat around the bush, Draco. I love you, and I think you know that. But I can't trust you."

She pushed her broom into a dive, and flew away from him as quickly as she could. It was only when she reached the broom-shed that she realised that he hadn't followed her. Turning to look back the way she had come, she saw a tiny speck in the distance. He hadn't moved at all, but hung motionless in the air.

888

"I'm sorry, father. I just can't do it." Draco was flushed and angry, and he felt like stamping his foot like a toddler having a tantrum.

"Can't?" Lucius repeated threateningly. "That's not a word in the Malfoy vocabulary, boy."

Draco flinched involuntarily. He knew from painful experience that it was dangerous when his father used that quiet tone of voice. "It's not like I haven't tried. She doesn't trust me anymore. After everything that I've done over the past seven years, I don't blame her either," he muttered to himself as an afterthought.

Lucius took a step forward, his eyes boring into his son's. "Have you tried?" he asked silkily. "Tell me something honestly, Draco. If the dark lord were here right now, would he think that you had tried hard enough?"

Helplessly, Draco shook his head. "You don't know what it's like," he said miserably.

"What? You can't convince a pathetic little mudblood that you love her?" Draco stiffened at the word, but mercifully his father didn't seem to notice his reaction. "From what I hear, you convince girls that you love them all the time. You've got that Parkinson girl eating out of the palm of your hand, haven't you?" Draco shrugged. "Unless there's something you haven't told us," Lucius said suddenly, dangerously.

Draco looked up. "Like what?" he asked hesitantly.

"When I asked you about this, I seem to recall you telling me that this was all just a bit of fun. I distinctly remember you saying that you thought it would be 'cool' to get a Gryffindor into bed so that you could callously break her heart. I'll admit I wasn't best pleased that you'd chosen such an unorthodox way of going about it, but it was an ingenious method of torture all the same. Personally, I'm a member of the old school. I prefer to cause physical pain." Lucius took his wand out of his robes and laid it down on the table in front of him. Draco's gaze was drawn to it, and he was unable to look away or ignore the unspoken threat. "But now I'm starting to wonder whether that wasn't just a line to keep the old man happy. Now I'm starting to wonder whether there's not some small part of you that loves the little tramp."

"No it wasn't, sir. Of course I don't love her." Draco shook his head vehemently, eyes fixed to his father's wand. "I could never love someone like her. But she doesn't trust me. Of course I can get Slytherins and pure-bloods to trust me," he said angrily. "I'm a Slytherin and a pure-blood. Trusting me and believing me comes naturally to them. But she's a mudblood Gryffindor. It's amazing she trusted me so much in the first place."

"In that case, you will have to call on all your cunning to find a way to make her trust you again, won't you?" Lucius said decisively. "Unless you want to explain to the dark lord why his plan has failed?"

Draco said nothing for a long time, then. Finally, he looked defiantly into his father's eyes. "It's not exactly a great plan anyway, is it?" Lucius drew himself up to his full height and stared down menacingly at his son. Undaunted, Draco continued. "Let's get Draco to date one of Harry's friends so he can torture her and turn her to the dark side and Harry will be so devastated that he can't fight. Yeah, that's a lot of energy put wasted for nothing," he said petulantly. "Why don't you just kidnap her and have done with it? Better yet, kidnap the Weasley kid. He's more likely to come after her anyway."

His father had been advancing on him throughout this little speech, but he didn't notice until he finished, and looked up to see the older man towering above him. He was rewarded with a sharp slap across the face that made him dizzy. "You will never question our lord again," Lucius roared. "If I ever hear so much as a cross word from you in relation to his leadership, I will hex you so badly you'll be praying for death just to bring release from your pain. Do you understand me?" Draco, hands clutched to his face, said nothing. "Do you understand me?" his father repeated furiously.

"I understand," Draco replied dejectedly.

Lucius sank onto his knees and gently pulled Draco's hands away from his face. He pointed his wand at his son's cheek and muttered a healing charm, then rose and walked away. With his back to Draco, he sighed. "The price of disobedience is too high," he muttered.

Taking himself to be dismissed, Draco got to his feet. To avoid being struck back by the anti-apparition wards on his father's home he made his way to the front door, but before he could step outside his mother's voice stopped him. "You know he doesn't mean to hurt you," she said softly as he passed her.

Draco didn't turn to look at Narcissa, but he nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said eventually.

"He doesn't want you to be hurting inside, either."

"Could've fooled me," Draco mumbled, not intending his mother to hear.

Narcissa rose from the chaise she had been sitting on, and crossed the entrance hall in long strides to stand beside her son. She touched his cheek gently, and pushed his hair back off his face. "He loves you so much," she said, intently looking into his eyes. "We both love you, Draco. I know this must feel like the end of the world right now, but trust me when I tell you it will get easier." Draco raised an eyebrow, and she shook her head passionately. "Don't dismiss me like that. I know from experience how hard this sort of thing can be. When Andromeda left to marry that mudblood, I had to cut her out of my life. Even though I knew she had done something unspeakably wrong, it broke me up inside to turn my back on her. She was my big sister, for God's sake." Draco glanced up, wondering at this outpour of emotion. His mother rarely talked about such things. "But I did what was best for the family. I haven't spoken to her in years, and although it hurt very much for a long time, it lessened. I did what was right, and I don't regret it. Now you must do the same."

Draco stared at the carpet in silence while a battle raged in his head. Finally, he met his mother's gaze with a hint of belligerence. "You just had to cut her out," he said. "You didn't lead her into horrible torture and a bloody death."

Narcissa looked at him with such compassion then that it made him want to cry. But he remained resolute, and stared back at her defiantly. She just stroked his hair gently again, and smiled sadly. "Our choices are always hard when we stand up for what we believe in," she said softly. "In the end, you have to do what's best for you. And, I hope, what's best for the family."

She turned and walked gracefully up the stairs, leaving him to eixt the house and disapparate back to the boundaries of Hogwarts alone. Despondently, he wandered the few miles back up to the castle. When he reached the Slytherin common room, Pansy Parkinson was waiting for him, pouting. "Draco, where were you earlier? We were desperately bored without you. You disappeared off the face of the planet." She ran up to throw her arms around him, and he pushed her away irritably.

"Not now, Pansy. I'm not in the mood." Ignoring her hurt expression, he stomped to his dorm and fell onto his bed, staring up, unseeing, at the ceiling.

He lay there for a long time. When Blaise Zabini finally walked in some time later, he had no idea how much time had passed. His friend said nothing, just came and sat on the next bed over. After a long silence, Blaise looked up at Draco. "Pansy's quite upset with you," he said softly.

"Pansy can go fuck herself with the dark lord's wand," Draco said heatedly.

Blaise laughed, and Draco couldn't help but smile slightly as well. "Is that his literal or figurative wand?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Either," Draco replied. "Both."

There was another pause before Blaise opened his mouth again. "What's up with you, recently? You've been acting really weird."

Draco shrugged. "Love's a funny thing."

"Can't argue with you there," Blaise said, nodding.

"Duty's even funnier," he expanded, his expression clearly saying he found his situation anything but amusing.

"I'm guessing this is something you can't really talk to me about?"

"Not unless you want us both to be strung up by our ankles for treachery," Draco admitted.

Blaise nodded, understanding what his friend meant. They tended to avoid talking about their fathers' master unless they really had to. No-one knew what might be considered acceptable and what might get you killed. He sat in silence with Draco for some time after that, hoping the other boy would be able to derive some comfort from his presence. Finally, he stood and moved over to Draco's bed. "Listen, mate. I can't really help you out with whatever you've got going on, but I can tell you that whatever it is, the dark lord knows what he's doing. It might seem hard right now, but it will be alright in the end. When we win, and everyone knows their place, it'll all be worth it."

Draco nodded, but he knew that deep down he just couldn't believe the rhetoric anymore. Blaise got up and started walking to the door. "But what if it isn't?" he asked softly. Blaise hesitated for a fraction of a second, but didn't reply. He left Draco alone in the dorm, closing the door quietly behind him. "What if it kills me?" Draco whispered.


	15. You Always Have a Choice

Chapter Fifteen

  
You Always Have a Choice

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, and Draco woke up determined to bring about a change to his own mood. Blaise was right; he had to put his feelings to one side and complete his mission. He would get over the mudblood with time, just like his mother said, and once she was dead and the dark lord took his rightful place in the world, he would be able to laugh about this stupid, adolescent crush. He knew, deep down, that he was fooling himself. But he couldn't bear to see that look of disappointment in his mother's eyes, or hear his father telling him he was weak.

So what if he loved Hermione? He wouldn't allow himself to sacrifice everything his family had worked so hard for just because of one stupid, pointless emotion. He would do what needed to be done, and then put her out of his mind for good. Besides, he had figured out a way to get Hermione to trust him. And he would give himself one perfect moment with her before he betrayed that trust. He deserved that much, he told himself. And he tried to believe it.

888

After an entire day spent avoiding Draco, Hermione sought out Ginny for some much-needed girl time. "We had that talk you said we should have," she said in a low voice once she had found her friend at the dinner table.

Ginny's head whipped round to examine Hermione's expression. Immediately she stood up and pulled the other girl into an empty classroom, expertly locking and sound-proofing the door with her wand. "So, what happened?"

"Nothing, really," Hermione admitted. "Except that he told me he loved me, and that he didn't care what you-know-who did to him, and that life wasn't worth living without me."

There was a long pause while Ginny digested all that. "Wow," she managed finally. "He said all that?" Hermione nodded, a hint of a smile shining in her eyes. "That's really – wow."

"And what did you say?"

The smile disappeared, immediately to be replaced with regret. "That I couldn't trust him," she supplied.

"Oh." Ginny looked slightly taken aback. "Well, that's understandable." She smiled reassuringly at the older girl. "What kind of relationship could you ever have with someone if you didn't trust him?"

"I know. That's what I told him." Hermione twisted a corner of her robes around her hand, and stared down at the floor. "He said he'd leave me alone, if that's what I really wanted."

"But that's a good thing, right?" Ginny asked gently. "You've made your decision, and now you can really focus on forgetting him. Even more so, if he's promised to give you some space, at last."

"It's a good thing," Hermione agreed. "But you didn't see the look in his eyes," she said, looking up at Ginny. "He looked so hurt and dejected; like I'd really broken his heart."

"Oh, Hermione." The younger girl pulled her into her arms and rubbed her back soothingly. "You made the right decision, you know. If you can't trust him, you can't be with him."

Hermione pulled away and nodded. "That's the thing," she admitted quietly. "I think I can trust him, after all."

To her surprise, Ginny didn't continue to look at her sympathetically. Instead, she broke into a grin. "Well then, would you tell me exactly what the problem is?"

Hermione looked at her with consternation. "What do you mean? I told him we were done. I asked him to leave me alone for good. That's not exactly something you just take back. I broke his bloody heart, for God's sake."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Stop being such a drama queen," she said, ignoring the glare she got from her friend. "Draco loves you, so he'll come back in an instant if you just go and talk to him. Finally, the two of you can stop dancing around the subject and just come out and be a couple."

"You really think so?" Despite everything, Hermione couldn't keep the hope out of her eyes.

"What I think is that you're both being idiots. If you love each other, and he doesn't care about the consequences, and you trust him, then all the roadblocks are gone. You can go and talk to him right now."

"I don't know," Hermione started reluctantly.

"Hermione Jane Granger, if you're not careful I'm going to start thinking you're addicted to pain and angst." Ginny pulled her friend to face her, and gripped her upper arms. "Do you trust him?"

"Yes," Hermione replied decisively.

"Do you love him?" Again, Hermione nodded. "And he loves you, right?"

"Yes," Hermione said. A smile was starting to grow on her face.

"Then get the hell out of this classroom and tell him right now, before I hex some sense into you."

"I can't," the older girl replied with a sigh.

"Why not?" Ginny looked almost personally affronted, and it was all Hermione could do not to laugh at the expression on her face.

"Because you locked the door," Hermione said with a wide grin.

888

"And you are certain the boy will come?" Voldemort asked in his high, demanding voice.

Lucuis Malfoy turned away from the fireplace where he stood, brooding, to face his master. "Draco will come," he confirmed. "He contacted me himself this morning. He will be here, and he will bring the girl."

"You are sure he will not have a change of heart?" the other man asked with a hint of poison in his voice. "We already have evidence that you do not have such a strong grip on his behaviour as you might previously have believed."

"He'll come," Lucius replied with certainty.

Voldemort's face twisted into a cruel smile. "Perhaps you place too much faith in him?"

"No, my lord." Lucius realised a fraction too late that he shouldn't have contradicted his master. Voldemort pointed his wand at the man and, within moments, he was writing on the floor and screaming. Finally, the dark wizard lifted the curse and Lucius knelt on all fours, panting and sweating. "I'm sorry for my rudeness, master," Lucius managed to mumble as he crawled towards Voldemort and kissed his robs, cringing before the powerful man. "I did not mean any disrespect. I merely wished to say that although my son may be disobedient at times, he would never betray your trust."

The empty flattery did its job, and Voldemort settled back into the high-backed chair, satisfied. "We must hope your trust in him is not misplaced," he said softly, making Lucius wince.

"I am sure he would never dare refuse any demand you wished to make of him, master. You are too great and too powerful, my lord. He understands that our only purpose is to serve you; to do your bidding even if it leads to death."

"For your sake, as well as for his, I hope that he does."

Lucius bowed once more, and retreated to his position by the fireplace. He closed his eyes and prayed that Draco would make the right decision. He didn't think he could bear to lose his son to the blood-traitors and mudbloods. His heart clenched painfully, and he gripped the mantelpiece so hard his knuckles turned white. Draco would come, he told himself. His son understood the responsibility he owed to his family and to his master. Draco would come.

888

Draco laid the finishing touches to the room, and sat back. Now all he had to do was wait for her to arrive. He was taking the coward's way out, he knew, doing it this way. If he had an ounce of courage he would be honest with her, and give her the choice. At the very least, he would be honest with her and then take her by force. But he couldn't bear to end it that way. He couldn't bear to see that look of hurt and betrayal in her eyes when he told her what he was doing. "Better she finds out once I'm long gone," he muttered to himself. And he was being selfish as well. He was going to give himself something to remember her by; a moment to savour in the years to come. What the dark lord might do to her physically would pale in comparison to what he was going to do to her emotionally. He knew all that, and yet he couldn't stop himself. He needed this. He couldn't live another moment without it. "I'm a Slytherin," he told the walls angrily. "I'm not brave and noble, and everyone knows that. What else am I supposed to do?" He violently squashed the voice that told him exactly what he should be doing, and tried to distract himself by shooting curses at the pillows.

Meanwhile, Hermione was out looking for him. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop smiling. Even when Blaise Zabini stepped out in front of her, she beamed at him. He took an involuntary step back, unused to seeing Gryffindors smiling at him like that. "I've got a note for you," he said, holding out a folded bit of parchment.

She took it from him, and he made to walk away. "Hold on," she said. Dutifully, he turned back to look at her. "You haven't seen Draco anywhere, have you?"

He looked at her strangely, but didn't answer her directly. "Read the note," he said curtly before leaving her alone in the corridor.

Heart beating fast, Hermione unfolded the parchment. Written in Draco's unmistakeable hand were four words. _Back to the beginning._

Frowning, she turned the parchment over and looked for something more. But that was it – back to the beginning. She tapped the note with her wand and nothing happened. "Reveal," she said commandingly, tapping the note again.

This time, when she turned the parchment over, more words had appeared. _I know I said I'd leave you alone, but I had to try once more. If you think you might be able to trust me, this is where we have to go._

Her heart leapt, and she touched the writing lightly with her fingertips. 'Back to the beginning' had to mean one of only two things – either the Crow Pub, or the Room of Requirement. Her sensible mind told her that there was no point in going all the way into Hogsmeade first, so she started to make her way to the seventh floor.

She wasn't surprised to see a door in the wall, where usually there was just a blank space. Smiling slightly, she pushed it open. What she saw took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes.

Gone was the mirror above the bed. The hot tub was nowhere in sight. The Room of Requirement no longer looked like a cheap hotel room where people might go to fuck. It looked like a place to make love in. Rose petals were strewn across the bed, which was made with soft satin sheets. Tasteful pictures adorned the walls, and to make the perfect moment even better, Draco Malfoy was stood in the middle of the room waiting for her.

"Hermione, I –"

He faltered into silence as she put a finger to his lips. "I know," she said with a smile. "I never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but I love you, Draco Malfoy. I love you more than I ever dreamed I could ever love anyone."

"Hermione," he tried again, but again she stopped him.

"You don't need to say anything," she told him. "I know we have a long road ahead of us, and I know it won't be easy, but I want to try. I can't imagine my life without you in it." She broke off when she noticed tears in his eyes. Her heart melted, and she said a silent thank you to Ginny for all her good advice. "Are you alright?" she asked him softly.

Draco bit his lip, and nodded silently. "I don't –"

But whatever he was going to say, he didn't get a chance. Hermione raised her face to his and their lips met. Electricity sparked between them just like it had on that first night, but this was so much better than it had ever been before. Where before there was raw passion and lust, now there was tenderness and caring. But, strangely, the passion was still there. Hermione felt a flame roar up inside her, and she gasped as Draco nipped gently at her neck. "Draco," she murmured throatily.

They sank to the floor together, and Hermione tore at his shirt, pulling it off him with a fervour matched only by his own. "God, I love you," he moaned as she started to kiss down his chest.

He rolled on top of her, pinning her to the ground and kissing her roughly. Together they pulled off each others' clothes, as though they couldn't wait to feel each other, skin on skin. At last they were completely naked, and Hermione could sense Draco's desire for her. Gently she reached down and caressed him, and he kissed her hard, making her cry out. She was aching for him, desperately wanting him to make love to her; to complete her. And, just when she thought she couldn't wait any longer, he did.

888

Hermione lay on the bed, drowsily smiling up at the Slytherin boy she had come to love. "That was amazing, Draco. I've never felt like that before, ever."

"Neither have I," he admitted. He was sat in an armchair across the room from her, watching her with sadness in his eyes.

Hermione, half-asleep and thoroughly content, didn't notice his melancholy. "Who would have guessed that we'd end up like this, with a beginning like we had," she said with a grin.

"I know." She rolled over and stared at him intently, head tilted to one side as she considered his naked form. Draco felt an unmistakeably emotion rearing its ugly head. The guilt was almost unbearable. "Hermione, I have to tell you something," he said at last, running his hands through his hair and wondering whether he was going to regret this.

"What?" she asked innocently, as she stared up at him with eyes that were full of love and kindness.

"I –" he sighed, and clenched a fist. "I don't know how to start, but –" again, he stopped and grunted in frustration. "Oh God, this is so difficult."

Hermione stood up and walked to him, kneeled in front of him and took his hands in her own. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can tell me anything."

He stared at her intently, willing himself to have the courage to stand up for what was right, just once in his life. He would lose her either way, he knew. But her face was so trusting. He couldn't bear to see the look of horror on her face that would surely follow a confession. Instead, he pulled her round and pushed her hair off her neck. "I just wanted to tell you that I love you," he said softly.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his bare knee. "I love you too," she sighed happily.

He stroked her hair gently until her breathing grew steady and even and he knew she was asleep. Ever so quietly, he picked his wand up off the table beside him and pointed it at the base of her neck. He took a deep breath to steady himself and whispered, "Stupefy." Her head grew heavy and she slumped down, letting him know he had been successful. Softly he kissed the top of her head and tried to quell the guilt and pain he felt inside. Losing his battle with his tears, he hugged her limp body to him. "Oh God, Hermione, I'm so sorry. This is the only path I know. I've got no choice," he told her unconscious form, knowing already that he was lying to himself and to her.


	16. What's Best For The Family

Chapter Sixteen

  
What's Best for the Family

Lucius' faith in his son was not misplaced. As promised, Draco arrived on the steps of Malfoy Manor that evening, bearing the mudblood's unconscious body. He took one look at her peaceful expression, and thanked God that he wouldn't have to see the hurt in her eyes when she realised what he had done. Again, he cursed his own cowardice. Before he could turn back, he pushed the front door open and laid Hermione down on the very chaise longue that his mother had been sat on the day before. Her hair had fallen into her eyes, and he couldn't help pushing it away and perching on the edge beside her to get one last look at her perfect face.

He knew the plan didn't involve her being killed, of course. But he also knew her, better than he could ever have imagined knowing anyone. She would never betray her friends or her beliefs, not even if they tortured her until her dying day. And when the dark lord realised that she would never bow to him, it would be the end of her. Her beautiful body would be defamed and scarred and abused, and when he finally killed her she would be a mere husk; an unrecognisable shell of the girl whose cheek he was currently caressing.

But she was a better person than he was. She was brave and good and noble, and he wasn't. He knew that, now. He was being tested, and he was going to fail her. With a heavy heart, he stood and made his way to the door where he would be able to apparate away from this hell. But he heard rustling behind him and forced himself to stop and turn, and to bow respectfully, as was required. "My lord," he muttered. "I have brought her to you, as you requested."

The dark lord smiled coldly, and nodded at Lucius. "You have trained him well," he said. He paced towards Draco, who shrank back involuntarily at the approach. Voldemort didn't stop, but took the boy's right arm and held it in an iron grip. "Soon you will be rewarded by seeing my mark on this arm," he told the man, as though he were bestowing a great honour upon him.

Lucius bowed in acknowledgement, and kept his eyes away from his son. "I thank you, master."

Voldemort's face twisted and his red eyes seemed to blaze as he looked at Draco. "You wish to leave," he said quietly. Draco didn't answer, and kept his gaze focused on the floor, looking anywhere but at any of the three other people in the room. "I think you will stay, for now."

Draco nodded miserably, knowing that if he tried to disobey he would be dead before he hit the floor. Voldemort turned to Lucius. "Wake up the girl." Lucius immediately crossed the room and pointed his wand at Hermione. "Hold her tightly when she wakes, so she doesn't even think about trying to escape."

Draco realised with panic where this was heading. He couldn't bear to see her realise she had betrayed him, he thought, as he desperately flicked his eyes left and right to try and find a way out. Lucius, either not noticing or ignoring his son's discomfort, did as he was told, and muttered, "Ennervate."

Light shot from his wand, and a moment later Hermione opened her eyes. She blinked sleepily up at Lucius, and her expression quickly changed as she recognised who it was that was holding her. "Where am I?" she asked, struggling to break free of his grip.

"I think you know where you are," Voldemort said calmly.

Hermione turned to look at him, and the blood drained out of her face as she saw who stood beside him. Her expression grew horrified, and tears immediately sprang to her eyes. "No," she breathed.

"Oh yes," the dark lord replied, satisfaction oozing from him. "Young Malfoy has been operating on my orders all this time."

Draco looked from Voldemort to his father as a terrible realisation flooded him. This wasn't about turning Hermione over to their side, or about getting Harry Potter. They intended to do that as well, of course, but this was about something more. This was his punishment for daring to fall in love with a muggle-born. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Hermione's hurt-filled ones; her gaze boring into him and making him feel as though he was in hell already, burning for eternity. "Why?" she whispered, her voice breaking as she tried to stop the flow of tears that now ran freely down her cheeks.

"Why not?" Voldemort replied for him. "You are nothing but a cheap, filthy mudblood, like all the rest. Why should he not use you for a while before delivering you to his master?"

Draco wanted to shout and scream; to tell her not to listen to them; that he hadn't meant to hurt her. He wanted to run to her and hug her and tell her that he hadn't been lying when he told her he loved her. If he died with her, so be it. Nothing was worth this, not even his miserable, worthless life. But those eyes seemed to have pinned him to the spot. He was unable to move either towards her or away from her; unable to break the eye-contact she had established.

He felt as though he would lose her forever if he looked away from her now. But then she closed her eyes and turned her head, and that was all he needed. He turned tail and sprinted from the manor, not even stopping when he passed through the anti-apparition wards. He ran through the grounds, barely noticing the branches that whipped at his legs and arms and tore through his robes, until he tripped on a tree root and stumbled to the ground. All at once her face rose up into his mind and he felt the unmistakeable need to throw up. Rolling over, he heaved deeply, emptying the contents of his stomach until all that was left was acid. It was far worse than he had imagined. The pain began in his gut and travelled all the way to his head, which was throbbing mercilessly, and the guilt bore down on him like an unbearable weight. It was too late now, the dark lord had her. There was nothing he could do but sink into oblivion. He rolled onto his back and laid motionless, salty tears mingling with the mud, until his eyes finally drifted shut. He was haunted by dreams of her, all of them ending the same way: with her turning her eyes to him and asking why. And he had no answer to give her.

888

That morning at breakfast, both Hermione and Draco were conspicuous by their absence. Ginny noticed the empty chair at the Slytherin table and smiled privately to herself. Clearly their talk had gone as well as she had anticipated, she thought, with a thrill of delight for her friend. She deliberately did nothing to draw attention to Hermione's disappearance, and gave Harry's hand a squeeze as she slid into the seat beside him.

But there was no hope for her friend once Ron looked up at saw Ginny sit down alone. "She's not with you, then?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's a bit early in the morning to be wearing your stalker hat, isn't it Ron?"

Harry chuckled softly beside her, and she kissed him lightly on the cheek. Ron frowned. "It's not funny. There are active death eaters around, remember," he hissed. "And she's the muggle-born best friend of Harry Potter. You-know-who could well be after her."

"Well, yeah. But how would he be able to get into the castle with Dumbledore here? Since the attack he's tripled the wards and stationed guards around the school. There's no way Voldemort's getting in without Dumbledore and half the ministry knowing it." Ginny grinned when Harry glanced over at her, surprised. "What? I can be just as observant as the rest of you," she said. In reality, she just wanted to stop Ron from questioning her too closely about where Hermione was.

She thought at first that she had been successful, when her brother apparently turned his attention whole-heartedly to his toast. But after a moment he looked up again, still frowning. "So where is she?"

Ginny shrugged. "How would I know? We don't even share the same dorm," she pointed out.

Ron nodded thoughtfully, and then leaned forward. "Hey, Lavender!" he shouted down the table. "Was Hermione in when you got up?"

Lavender shook her head. "We just assumed she got up early to go to the library," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"Or flying," Parvati added with a girlish laugh that made Ron grimace.

"I don't know," Ron said, shaking his head. "There's something about this that I don't like."

Ginny avoided looking at him and focused on pouring herself some pumpkin juice. She knew exactly what was strange about the situation, but she had a feeling Ron wouldn't be quite as understanding about it as she was. The idea that she should tell him what was going on flitted briefly into her head, but she immediately thought again. It was up to Hermione to tell him when she was ready; it was none of Ginny's business.

But when lunch-time came and there was still no sight of Draco or Hermione, Ginny started to feel a little uneasy. She glanced over at the Slytherin table to see Malfoy's friend, Blaise something, sat a little apart from his class-mates with a strange look on his face, and her discomfort grew. By the time the sun started to set early that evening, she was feeling thoroughly troubled, and wondering exactly what she had got her friend into.

Biting her lip, and feeling very uncomfortable about what she was about to do, she pulled Harry into an empty classroom. He grinned at her, but his smile faltered when he saw the look on her face. "Ginny, what's wrong?"

"It's Hermione," she started anxiously. "I think something... bad... might have happened to her."

Harry's expression darkened and he pulled out his wand, quickly casting a silencing charm over his shoulder at the door. "What's happened?" he asked seriously, pulling her to sit down on the desk beside him.

Ginny twisted her hands unhappily. "I promised her I wouldn't tell you about it," she said softly. "You have to promise not to fly off the handle, and remember that I might be completely wrong about all this…" she trailed off and stared into her lap miserably.

"Ginny," Harry said calmly, holding her shoulders. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"She's been seeing Malfoy," she whispered quietly. "She went to look for him last night and I haven't seen her since. I thought at first that they were just spending some time together, but it's not like her to disappear like this and now I'm not sure if... oh, God." A tear trailed down Ginny's cheek and dripped onto her hand, but she seemed not to notice.

When she finally looked up, Harry was ashen. "How?" he managed.

"I don't know. But, Harry, she said she trusted him. She didn't before, but then she did, and that was why she was looking for him. She wasn't to tell him that she trusted him and that they could be together." Ginny gripped her hands together desperately, as though offering up a prayer. "She was so happy," she moaned.

Harry pulled Ginny to him and hugged her tightly. "It's alright, I'm sure everything's alright," he whispered. His heart was pounding and he knew he had to find Hermione as soon as possible, before anything happened to her. She might trust the bastard, for some unfathomable reason, but Harry definitely didn't. He knew what the boy was capable of. Without another word he raced out of the classroom, Ginny hot on his heels.

"Harry, where are you going?" she called out as she tried to keep up with him. She prayed that Hermione and Draco were safe and happy somewhere and she pleaded with the heavens that, if they were, Harry didn't hurt either of them. Hermione would never forgive him.

"Marauders' Map," he called back urgently. "At least we'll know if she's still in the castle."

He tore up the winding stairs, and was panting hard when he reached the Fat Lady's portrait. He was just clambering into the common room as Ginny caught up with him. She saw Ron look up and smile when Harry dashed in, and frown when his friend didn't stop to say hello. "Harry, what –?"

"Malfoy," he growled.

All at once, Ron's demeanor changed. He saw Ginny climbing through the portrait hole and approached her. "What's happened? Has Malfoy got Hermione? Has he hurt her? I swear to God, if he's hurt her I'll tear him limb from limb." Ron's voice grew in volume and intensity as he hammered out his questions, until he was shouting heatedly and drawing curious looks from the other Gryffindors.

"We don't know yet," Ginny said quietly, placing a hand on his arm and trying to calm him down.

At that moment, Harry came back down the stairs holding the map, and his invisibility cloak. Ron ran to meet him, a thousand questions haunting his expression. "If either of them is here, we'll know," Harry said, tapping the parchment and muttering the words to activate the map's magic.

Ginny and Harry scanned the map frantically, looking everywhere for Hermione's name. It was nowhere to be found. But Ron shook his head and pointed with a shaking hand to a small dot just outside the Gryffindor common room. The label read, very clearly, 'Draco Malfoy'.

The three of them stared at the portrait hole for just a moment, and then Ron rushed towards it, wrenching it open and pulling the blonde boy inside. He grabbed Malfoy's collar and dragged him to his feet, and then drew his wand and pointed it at Malfoy's head, his knuckles turning white from the strength of his grip. The other occupants of the common room were turning to look now, standing back and staying silent, looking almost afraid at the violence visible in Ron's features.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice soft and dangerous. Malfoy just shook his head, unchecked tears running down his cheeks. "Where is she?" Ron roared.

"Malfoy Manor," Draco said desperately.

That was enough for Ron, who pushed him with all his might into the wall, causing a hairline crack to appear where Draco fell. The red-haired boy ran from the room, his expression desperate.

A complete hush had fallen over the common room, and all eyes were fixed on Malfoy. The boy who had happily tortured most of them with his snide comments and hexes; who hadn't shown his emotions once in seven years; was lying where Ron had thrown him, sobbing uncontrollably and trembling.

Harry walked slowly towards him. "Is she alive?" he asked quietly.

Draco nodded. "She was when I left," he muttered miserably, sounding as though the words were causing him physical pain.

Harry drew his wand and pointed it at Malfoy, causing the other boy to flinch. He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "You're not worth it," he said in disgust, before storming out of the portrait hole to catch up with his friend.

Ginny hadn't moved since Ron had pointed out Draco's name on the map. She couldn't stop thinking of her words to Hermione the day before, and the guilt was threatening to overwhelm her. She stared at the weeping, shivering boy and her eyes started to well up as she remembered the delighted expression that had been on Hermione's face just before she had gone to find the boy she thought she could trust.

"Did you ever love her?" she asked scathingly.

Draco nodded again. "I do love her," he insisted through his tears. "I love her more than anything. But you don't understand what it's like for me. My father, the dark lord, even my mother insisted –" he trailed off under her withering stare, and he knew that he didn't believe the words even as they left his own mouth. He dropped his gaze to the floor and his shoulders shook with another sob. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Were you just going to leave her there to be tortured and eventually die?" Ginny asked, her words dripping with poison.

Draco looked at her with pleading eyes. "I was coming to tell you," he said. "I tried to do what's best for the family, but I couldn't. I couldn't bear to see her look at me like that. I was coming to tell you."

He stared at her, begging for forgiveness. Ginny's features hardened and she gave him a look of pure contempt. "You're despicable," she said finally. She turned to go the same way as Harry and Ron, and passed close by Malfoy as she did. She stopped and stared down at him, and spat into his face before leaving the common room.

Draco didn't even move to wipe himself dry. Oblivious to the stunned looks he was receiving from all sides; apparently unaware even that there were other people in the room, he stared with dead eyes at the deep red carpet. "Don't you think I know that?" he whispered.


	17. What Is To Come, What Might Have Been

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update this story. I've been on holiday and I didn't have the internet. There's only the epilogue left now, and then the story will be complete!

Chapter Seventeen

  
What is to Come, What Might Have Been

"Draco," a female voice called out playfully. He looked up to see Hermione running up to him, something hidden behind her back. He waited patiently, and was rewarded by her smashing a rubber thing onto his head, drenching him in water.

Coughing and spluttering, he frowned at her. "God, what on earth was that?"

Hermione giggled to see him dripping wet, his pristine robes soaked and his neat hair bedraggled. "A water bomb," she said with delight. "It's a muggle invention."

Shaking himself like a dog, Draco scowled. "Of course," he muttered. "Well I always knew wizards beat muggles." Hermione looked questioningly at him, and he drew out his wand and pointed it at her. "Aguamenti," he called out with a grin.

She squealed and danced as the jet of water hit her square in the face, and tried pointlessly to bat the stream away. Finally he took pity on her and lowered his wand. She approached him with a glint in her eye that he knew from experience wasn't a good sign. He ducked the burst of light that she sent his way from her own wand, and pulled her towards him. "You're so sexy when you're all wet like that," he murmured into her ear. She smiled up at him, the feud forgotten and her eyes twinkling.

"Flatterer," she said teasingly. "But I'll forgive you, just this once." She tilted her head and brought her lips to his, finally breaking away and leaving him flushed.

"After all these years you can still take my breath away," he whispered, sounding almost surprised. He glanced down at her white blouse, which was starting to turn see-through. "What do you think to us going back into the house and upstairs?"

Hermione looked up at him coquettishly through her eyelashes and pressed her body against his. "I think that's the most intelligent think you've said all day."

Draco felt a tug on his robes, and he pulled away from his wife with just a hint of a sigh. But when he looked down at the little girl who had her mother's bushy brown hair, his eyes were full of love. "What is it, Rosie?"

"Scorpius and me did a picture," she said, beaming.

"Did you, now?" Draco raised an eyebrow and Rosie giggled delightedly. He bent down and hoisted his daughter up onto his hip. "Let's go and see this work of art, then."

He reached out and put his free arm around Hermione, and together the three of them made their way across the grounds. When they arrived in the hallway of his and Hermione's large home, which was blessedly not the old Malfoy Manor, Draco stopped dead in his tracks. Rosie eagerly slithered out of his grip and ran to her brother, and both children stared up at Draco and Hermione looking very proud.

"Daddy, do you like our picture?" Scorpius asked, looking like a little blonde angel.

The hallway looked like a bomb-site. All the potted plants had been tipped over, and the expensive Persian rug was covered with soil, interspersed with broken pottery and petals. Draco stared at the heirloom, his mouth open with horror. The little terrors had ground the mud so deep into the rug that a simple wave of the wand wouldn't fix it.

He felt Hermione shaking beside him, and turned to comfort her. To his complete shock, she had her eyes squeezed shut and a grin plastered on her face. She was shaking with repressed laughter. "It's beautiful," Hermione managed, causing the smiles on the siblings' faces to grow even wider.

"Hermione, you think this is funny?" he hissed at her.

"Well, look at it," she said, gaining some semblance of control over her giggles. "It's you."

Frowning, Draco turned back to the rug, to study the 'picture' more closely. Sure enough, the shards of pottery, which had appeared random at first glance, were actually placed in the positions of eyes, nose, mouth and ears. The flowers seemed to be mostly there to make up hair, which was unmistakeable supposed to represent his hair-style. Most telling was the line the children had drawn in the soil above his right eye – it was his trademark raised eyebrow.

He shook his head and slowly exhaled, then started to chuckle. "Alright," he said at last. "It's very good."

Scorpius and Rosie looked at each other with proud, pleased expressions. "I'll go and get the Mrs. Scower's," Hermione said, taking one last amused glance at the rug.

"Do you think he's dead?" Draco heard the voice distinctly, but he couldn't see where it was coming from. He glanced over his shoulder fearfully and then back at his son and daughter. "Malfoy, are you awake?" The children didn't look up from their game, suggesting to Draco that they couldn't hear the strange voice. He hoped he wasn't going mad. He closed his eyes and shook his head irritably from side to side, as though he could physically force the voice away.

He opened his eyes, to see Finnegan and Longbottom stood over him. He jerked back, as the memory of the past few days came flooding back into his conscious. His head smacked against the wall, and the two Gryffindor boys drew away, putting some distance between themselves and him. He stared up at them, and became aware at last of the multitude of students who were eyeing him curiously.

888

Harry stumbled to a stop beside Ron, having apparated onto a tree-root and almost tripping over his own feet. They were in the grounds of Malfoy Manor, and Ron was already making tracks towards the house, walking straight in the direction of the path. Harry pulled on his sleeve. "Hold on, mate. We need a plan if we don't want to get killed."

Ron turned to him, and Harry was concerned to see the wild light in his eyes. "They've got Hermione in there," he said darkly.

"I know, but we're no good to her if we're dead." He was still keeping a tight grip on Ron's arm, afraid of what he might do otherwise.

Ron wrenched away from Harry and started walking towards the manor. "I'm going in there now," he shouted. "Every second we stand out here is another second they could be doing God knows what to her."

Harry ran to catch up with his friend, and pulled hard on his shoulder. Operating on instinct, Ron swung round and punched Harry in the jaw. Harry brought a hand to his face and fell back, shocked. "I want to help her," he said. "We won't help her if we get ourselves killed."

It seemed to be Harry's quiet tone of voice that jolted Ron out of his mad rage. He flushed red, and took a step towards Harry. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was just... we need to get in there."

"I agree," Harry said. "But last time I let my emotions dictate my actions, someone died." His voice faltered, but he pushed the thought of Sirius away. He could dwell on it later; he had no time now if he was going to be any help to Hermione and Ron. "Let's keep to the trees and skirt around the edge of the house. We can scout out the situation, and if we're lucky, they'll only have a guard or something watching over her. We might be able to get her out with the minimum of danger."

Ron nodded slowly as he took in Harry's plan. "OK, let's do it."

Together, they cautiously made their way through the trees that surrounded Lucius Malfoy's property. Harry offered up a silent prayer of thanks for the death eater's closely guarded privacy. It meant that the forest reached up almost to the house itself, and might be the only thing that stopped them getting found out too early. His heart beat hard in his chest, and he hoped desperately that Hermione would be alright when they found her. He glanced surreptitiously over at his friend, knowing that if she was hurt, Ron might do something stupid, like try and take on Voldemort himself.

888

Ginny had left the common room just in time to see her boyfriend and her brother jump on their brooms and take off down the corridor. She had assumed they would apparate to Malfoy Manor, and she knew they would need some kind of help if they were going to have any chance. She broke into a run, and was breathing hard when she arrived at the familiar gargoyle. "Voldemort," she panted, not even flinching at the name. The gargoyle sprang to the side, revealing the revolving staircase that would carry her up to the headmaster's office. Without waiting, she sprinted up the stairs until she reached the solid wooden door. Praying that he was there, Ginny started banging on the door.

It opened after a moment of frantic knocking, and Ginny came face to face with her scowling potions professor. She pushed past him, ignoring his affronted expression, and put both hands on the headmaster's desk, letting it take all her weight. "He's taken Hermione," she said. "He's got Hermione at Malfoy Manor, and Ron and Harry have gone after her. Voldemort's got her."

Dumbledore was on his feet in an instant. "Severus, would you get a calming draught for the child, please?" Snape nodded and moved to a cupboard in the corner.

"I don't need potions," Ginny said in frustration. "You need to help them."

"We will," the headmaster said, looking intently into Ginny's eyes. "But you must be calm if you are to assist us." He took the vial from Snape and handed it to Ginny, who gulped it down impatiently. Her breathing started to slow down, and her distressed expression disappeared, to be replaced with a composed urgency. "How long ago did they leave?"

"Less than ten minutes ago," she replied. "They were on broomsticks, but I think they were just trying to get past the apparition wards at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore nodded. "Severus, please contact headquarters. I think Dedalus is on watch tonight. Tell him to gather everyone he can, but make sure he's aware of the seriousness of the situation. If this is a trap, we could be facing serious opposition. Even if it's not, he can call the death eaters to him in a matter of minutes. And make sure Molly and Arthur are told."

Snape nodded, and tossed some floo powder into the fireplace. He called out, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," and disappeared in a whirl of flames.

"Minerva, let Shacklebolt know what's going on. Ask him to send every auror he can spare."

Ginny turned in surprise, not having noticed her head of house when she first arrived. She saw Flitwick and Sprout stood there as well, and realised she must have interrupted a meeting between the heads. McGonagall nodded before she, too, went to the fireplace.

"I'm entrusting the care of the students into your capable hands," he told the remaining professors. "Keep everyone calm and, if the need arises, gather everyone in the Great Hall. Alert Poppy that we may need her services after the battle. We'll send the injured back to her."

"Sir," Ginny said quietly, causing the headmaster to look down at her. "What can I do?"

"You've done the right thing by coming to us," he reassured her. "There's nothing more you can do, now. Go back to your common room and try to relax."

Ginny nodded, not wanting to cause Dumbledore anymore worry. She left the office and walked sedately down the steps. As soon as she was out of earshot, she began to run.

888

When Draco was opened his eyes, the first thing he was able to take in was Longbottom, glaring at him. "What have you done to Hermione?" Neville asked violently.

"When did you grow a pair of balls?" he muttered, reaching for his usual tone of mocking disdain and failing abysmally.

Finnegan stepped forward, now. It was funny, Draco thought, he hadn't known that the Irish boy was even friends with Hermione. He didn't know anything at all about her, really. The thought made him feel sick again, and he fought to gain control over his insides. "Did you say you loved her?"

Draco coughed violently, but managed not to vomit. "Yeah," he moaned, past all pretence and bravado, now.

"Then what the hell are you doing still sat here?" Finnegan demanded.

"I sent the wonder-boys after her, didn't I? They'll save her, I'm sure." He closed his eyes, desperate to be out of this red and gold hell and in his own bed, where he could grieve in peace. Maybe Blaise would even do a memory charm on him, and he could forget he'd ever even known the muggle-born existed.

"So that's it, is it? You've come clean and now your job's done?" Longbottom was staring down at him with disgust, and Draco wondered vaguely where the boy was suddenly getting all this courage from. He was Draco Malfoy; he could make idiots like Longbottom tremble with one look. "If you really loved her you wouldn't be content to just sit here while someone else goes off to rescue her. You'd be there with Harry, fighting side by side, like Ron is. You don't love her."

He started walking towards the portrait hole, followed by Finnegan and a few other seventh years. "Where are you going?" Draco croaked.

Longbottom shot him a look of loathing. "To save Hermione," he spat.

Before they could leave, Ginny burst into the common room, panting. "I've told Dumbledore," she said urgently. "They're going to help Harry and Ron, but we've been told to stay behind."

Most of the older students in the common room shared looks that clearly said they didn't like that order. "Is this it?" one of them asked hesitantly.

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know; no-one knows. But V-Voldemort is at the manor, and it's going to be an all-out battle." She paused for breath, and then looked at each of them in turn. "If we go, we risk everything."

Neville took out his fake galleon, and held it out to her. "Do you know how to activate them?" he asked quietly. "If this is it, the others deserve to know."

Ginny took it, nodding. She touched the coin with her wand, and knew she had done it right when her own began to heat up. "Good luck," she said gravely, before turning and running back out into the corridor.

The students started clambering out of the portrait hole, Ginny leading the way. Longbottom was the last to leave, and he stopped at the exit and looked back at Draco. "Are you coming?"

Draco didn't answer, and Longbottom didn't wait long. He left the blonde Slytherin alone in the common room without another glance.

888

Harry and Ron had managed to get to the entrance hall window without being detected. What they saw didn't bode well. Hermione was bound by some unidentifiable spell, and Voldemort was standing over her, saying something that was making her screw up her face in horror and disgust. Harry could feel Ron tense beside him, and he put a hand on his arm. "There's only the two of them," he whispered, "and we've got the element of surprise." Ron glanced over at him and nodded. Slowly, they crept towards the door.

All of a sudden, Harry blasted the entrance apart and they rushed into the hall. Ron shot a stunning curse at Lucius, which Malfoy easily deflected. Harry turned towards Voldemort and Hermione, only vaguely aware of Malfoy shooting a hex back at Ron which he successfully ducked. There was a roaring in Harry's ears as he walked slowly towards Voldemort, his wand pointing at the man he was destined to kill. "Let her go," he said, surprised at how his voice echoed around the vast hall.

Voldemort sneered at him. "You presume to give me orders, you half-blood brat?"

"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black," Harry said scornfully, only half-aware of what he was saying. The adrenaline had kicked in, and he was still advancing on the barely human creature that stood before him.

"You're too cocky, Potter. Dumbledore isn't here to protect you now. This time it's just you and me."

"I'm not cocky, I just know who I can beat," he replied evenly. "I've got power you could never understand." Voldemort was momentarily taken aback by the sheer brazenness of Harry's claim, and Harry took the opportunity to try and disarm him.

Voldemort easily turned the spell aside, and laughed shrilly. "Petrificus totalis," he said coldly, and Harry felt his entire body go stiff. He fell to the ground and hot pain shot through his nose as it smashed onto the hard wooden floor. "Levicorpus," Voldemort said, lazily pointing his wand at Harry and laying him to rest against the wall.

Harry flicked his eyes to the side and saw that Ron was locked in a fierce duel with Lucius Malfoy. Thankfully, he seemed to be holding his own. All he needed was one good shot, and then he could release Harry and they could face Voldemort together. But Harry's heart was sinking as he looked back over at Voldemort. Why did they think they could do this on their own? If he wasn't petrified he would have kicked himself for not thinking to get Dumbledore. Now, Hermione would die and so would they, and with him all hope for the wizarding world would also disappear.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Hermione. "Crucio," he called out, his voice thick with delight. Despite her magical binds, Hermione started writhing frenziedly when the curse hit her. She seemed to have been silenced, because her mouth was open and her chest was heaving, but no sound reached Harry's ears. Her pain-filled eyes were wide and desperate, and Harry struggled fruitlessly to free his body.

After what felt like a lifetime, Voldemort lifted the curse. He turned to Harry, triumph written in his features. "You can end her pain," he said gleefully. "You can end everyone's pain by surrendering to me now. Just bow before me and this will all end."

"Never," Harry shouted. It took him a moment to realise he had moved his lips, and another moment to realise that someone must have freed him. His head whipped round, but Ron was still battling furiously with Malfoy.

"Good morning, Tom." A surge of relief washed over Harry as Dumbledore stepped through the hole where the door used to be, and Voldemort howled in frustration.

In an instant, Harry was at Hermione's side while Dumbledore and Voldemort began to fight furiously. He quickly figured out what was holding her captive, and released her with a wave of his wand. Hermione fell into his arms and took several deep breaths. Harry expected her to sob on his shoulder, but her eyes remained dry. He could clearly see the tear-stains that ran down her cheeks, and realised she must be too exhausted to cry. "It's my fault," she whispered. "I trusted Draco and he brought me here. All this is my fault."

"It's OK," Harry murmured gently, stroking her hair. "You couldn't have known this would happen. It's not a crime to love someone."

Hermione gasped and pulled away from him. "You know?"

Harry nodded. "Ginny told me when she realised you weren't back. It's OK, Hermione. You've got nothing to be sorry for."

Voldemort shot something at Dumbledore and the headmaster stumbled back. Harry leapt to his feet, wand drawn, ready for the man to turn on him. Instead, Voldemort lurched for Lucius. Grabbing his right arm, he pressed down on something, making Malfoy howl in pain.

Harry realised he had called his death eaters, as men and women in masks began popping into the hall. All at once, before Harry had time to even think that they had no chance against so many, Tonks and Remus arrived. They were quickly followed by Molly and Arthur, and suddenly there were as many Order members as there were death eaters.

The curses started flying thick and fast, and Harry turned to Hermione. "You're too weak to fight," he told her earnestly. "Can you get back to Hogwarts?"

Hermione shook her head and struggled to her feet. "I can fight," she insisted.

Harry saw the determination in his eyes, and nodded. He knew from experience that he wouldn't be able to convince her otherwise, and neither of them had time for him to argue. She threw herself into the battle, firing a stinging hex at Bellatrix Lestrange as the woman advanced on Mad-Eye Moody.

The spell hit its mark, but Bellatrix merely cackled and spun around to face Hermione. "Little girl lost," she sneered. "Let's see how hard you hit when you're in pieces. Reducto!" Hermione barely dodged out of the path of the red light, and she could smell the singed wall behind her. She threw a stunning spell back at Bellatrix, who turned it aside with ease. "Relashio," she shouted. This time, Hermione was hit. She hissed with pain as the spell sliced across her arm, tearing her robes and making her bleed.

"Expelliarmus," a voice cried from behind woman. Hermione looked up to see Ginny catching Bellatrix's wand, the entire DA stood behind her readying to fight.

She had no time to process this before another jet of light came at her, and again she dived out of the way, and rolled over to a corner. She was shaking uncontrollably, and wondered whether Harry had been right to tell her to get away from the battle. Despite Harry's words, she couldn't help feeling responsible for what was happening. She saw Fred Weasley fall as a curse hit him in the chest, and let out a cry. She gave herself and mental slap on the face. She couldn't afford to fall apart now; not when her friends were in danger.

Gathering up all the fight she had left in her, she threw herself off the ground and cast a hex at the tall, masked man that had just hit Fred. He fell to the ground himself, and Hermione spun around to dodge another curse. She heard a body hitting the floor behind her, and prayed that it wasn't a member of the Order or the DA.

Voldemort and Dumbledore were locked in their own fight, performing feats that no-one else would have dreamed possible. The headmaster seemed to have eyes everywhere, and was throwing up shields and deflecting spells to keep his people safe, even while he held Voldemort off. Curses were flying thick and fast through the air, and it seemed as though the fight was turning in the Order and the DA's favour.

But Dumbledore couldn't keep up his pace indefinitely and all of a sudden Voldemort hit him, causing him to stumble back. Harry glanced over and his attention was caught by the pain in his mentor's eyes. That moment of distraction was all Lucius Malfoy needed, and he grabbed the boy and wrapped an arm tightly around him. "My lord," he cried ecstatically. "My lord, I have the boy!"

Fighters on both sides froze, but the death eaters recovered first. Four masked men took the opportunity to converge on Dumbledore, forcing him down and taking his wand, before the effects of Voldemort's spell had time to wear off and he began to regain his strength.

Voldemort turned to look at Harry with a strange light in his eyes. "Don't kill them," he ordered abruptly, as his servants began aiming their wands at the Order members. "I want them all to have ring-side seats for his execution."

The Order had been so distracted by Lucius' triumphant shout and the sight of Harry trapped, that the Death Eaters found it easy to immobilise them. It was deathly silent in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor as Voldemort advanced on Harry.

"I've waited a long time for this," he said softly, raising his wand. "There will be nothing to save you this time."

"Stupefy!" The spell was right on target. Lucius Malfoy's grip on Harry slackened, and he fell to the ground. Voldemort spun around, trying to see who had cast the hex.

That was all Harry needed. He raised his wand and pointed it at Voldemort, just as Voldemort pointed his own at the traitor.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Not one, but two jets of green light flew through the room. It seemed to happen in slow motion as everyone traced the line of the killing curses. A fraction before Harry's found its mark, Voldemort's own vindictive curse hit the blonde boy, who was leaning heavily against the doorway, square in the chest. Then Voldemort was hit and all hell broke loose.

Dumbledore threw off the Death Eaters that were holding him down in one fell swoop, and other fighters similarly turned on their captors. Bellatrix howled in grief and ran to her master's body, sobbing. In death, Voldemort looked strangely vulnerable, his red, slitted eyes showing surprise. He looked like a mortal man.

888

"What about this one?" Scrimgeour had arrived with a hoard of aurors in tow, to formally arrest those Death Eaters that hadn't managed to escape. Now, he poked at Draco's limp body carelessly with his toe.

Most of the Order and students had already gone back to Hogwarts where Madam Pomfrey was waiting to tend to them, but the minister had insisted on Harry staying behind. They would need an official statement from him, he had said. Now, Harry felt slightly sick as he watched the man's casual disregard for the dead.

"He saved my life," he said, his voice ringing clearly around the room. "Don't touch him like that."

Rufus Scrimgeour stepped back quickly, frowning. "It's Malfoy's boy, isn't it? He's a Death Eater." He didn't sound so sure of himself in the face of Harry's assertion.

Harry shrugged. "It's our choices that make us who we are," he said. "He may have chosen a bad path, but in the end he chose to give me a shot a Voldemort. I'd say that puts him quite firmly in the 'not a Death Eater' camp." He caught Dumbledore's eye, and the headmaster nodded once in approval, a sad smile playing on his lips.

Scrimgeour coughed awkwardly and looked away. "Yes, well. We'll arrange for him to be taken care of," he said, his discomfort showing clearly.

"I think I know someone who'll want that responsibility," Harry replied, stony-faced. He closed his eyes and thought about Hermione. When Voldemort fell, everyone had been stunned into silence. Only Hermione had moved, running to Draco as though they were the only two people there. She had held him close and wept while death eaters and order members alike stared in surprise and confusion. In the end it had been Ron who went to her, who had gently stroked her hair and told her it was alright to grieve for him. Together, Ron and Ginny led her away and apparated her back to Hogwarts. Harry looked up at the ceiling and prayed she would be alright.


	18. Epilogue

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

_Dear Hermione,_

_As I write this, you could already be dead. If you are, I know it will be by my hand. I might not be the one to do it, but I was the one that made it possible. I pray that your friends make it to you in time, and that you live on. If I'm lucky, and you survive this war, I need you to know one thing: I wasn't lying. When I kissed you, it was real. When I made love to you, it was real. I wasn't pretending, or using you as a pawn in one of the dark lord's plans. I didn't seek you out just so that I could deliver you into the hands of my father and his master; I truly loved you._

_I had a dream, after Potter and the Weasleys left me. At least, I think it was a dream. You had forgiven me for everything, and the dark lord was dead. You were still alive, and we were together. Maybe it was a vision of the future. We've got two children in the future, Hermione. Rosie's the spitting image of you, and Scorpius looks just like me. They're terrors; they ruined the best rug in the house; but we love them. We love them more than anything else in the world, because they're the living proof of our love for each other. I can't help but think it was just a dream. I know I don't deserve a happy ending._

_I also wanted to thank you. I spent sixteen years in a fog, walking through the world and barely touching anything in it. And then I saw you in the corner of that bar, and my life changed forever. How could I have known, at the time, how much better my life would be just for having you in it? For the first time, I can hear the birds sing. I can smell freshly-cut grass. I can even feel my magic more clearly. That's all you. You opened my eyes to the potential of the world, and now I can't get rid of it. But I wouldn't want to switch it off now, even if I could. Even the pain I'm feeling right now is worth something, because it makes the love shine all that much brighter._

_Oh God, I hope you're not in pain right now. I hope Potter's found you, and rescued you. That's what he does, isn't it? I never understood that before. I always thought that in the end, if it comes down to your own life or someone else's, you save yourself. No-one else will bother, after all. Except I think I understand now. You would have come to my rescue, even if you were in danger. You did come to my rescue, when I was drowning in rhetoric and bullshit. I would come to your aid right now if I could, but I don't think I could bear it if I got to the Manor and you were already dead._

_I've just re-read that last sentence. Even now, I'm being selfish and putting myself first. If you're already dead, then I deserve to suffer. I deserve to see your body. Your friends won't ever forget it; why should I be spared that pain? I'm a coward, Hermione. Each time I try to put down my pen and leave, something keeps me back. It's the same thing that made me run from you instead of towards you at the Manor. I'm a snivelling little coward, and I always have been._

_If I close my eyes, I can still smell your hair. You used coconut shampoo. I can feel your soft skin pressed against mine. I can see you tossing your hair back and laughing at something across the Great Hall. Your eyes were so bright when you laughed. They were bright when you were angry as well. You were never ashamed of your emotions; you displayed them proudly for all to see. I think I knew you were in love with me before you did. You can call me arrogant, but I think you loved me even before that stupid duel we had when I almost killed you._

_And now I've succeeded where I failed before, haven't I?_

_You're dead._

_You must be dead, by now. The dark lord gets bored easily._

_But Ginny said 'they' were on their way. I don't know who she meant, but she mentioned Dumbledore's name. I know everyone thinks highly of him, so maybe there's hope for you yet. And pretty much all of Gryffindor tower went as well. It must be fun at my house right now. It's a party, and everyone's invited – dark and light together. But there's hope, so you have to hold on. I told you that my life wasn't worth living if you weren't in it. I've changed my mind. I can cope without you in my life; but I have to know that you're alive somewhere in the world, even if it's not with me. So long as I know that somewhere, Hermione Jane Granger is breathing and laughing and telling everyone off for not working hard enough, I'll be able to survive. It won't be a pleasant existence, but I'll get by. If you die, Hermione, I won't be able to go on living. My heart will break._

_Is this what you fight for? Is this why you constantly go to battles that you know you can't win? Because the alternative is knowing that people you care about have died because you didn't even try. How can I live my life knowing that I might have been able to do something to save you?_

_You're a good person, Hermione. You're the best I've ever known._

_I think I understand it now. You're not fighting because you've been told to. You're not fighting for glory. You're fighting for all the people around you, because there's just a small chance that you'll be able to save them. You're fighting for the sound of water trickling in a brook, which is what your laugh sounds like to me. You're fighting for the flash of a grin that flits across someone's face when they've seen the one person they were looking for. You're fighting for roses and rain and all those other things that passed me by before I found you. You're fighting for Scorpius and Rosie. You're fighting for life._

_You're fighting for life._

_Because life is worth fighting for._

_I understand now, Hermione. I'm coming. I hope you're able to read this when the battle is over. I hope that you find someone who can give you everything you deserve. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, one day. _

_With love,_

_Draco Malfoy._

Hermione Jane Wallace brushed the tears from her cheeks she folded up the torn and battered parchment. It had been waiting for her in her dorm when she got back from the battle. Draco's elegant owl had hooted dolefully when she went in, as though it knew he was never coming back. Over the years, Hermione had read it often, whenever she was in need of comfort and hope.

Her door was pushed open a crack, and a woman with bushy brown hair poked her head round. "How are you feeling?" the woman asked in a whisper.

Hermione smiled and beckoned the woman into the room. "Come here, Rosie," she said in a weak voice. "Let me look at you properly."

The woman perched on the edge of the bed and gently brushed the wispy hair out of Hermione's face. "Are you feeling any better today, mum?"

"Stop talking nonsense," Hermione said. "I'm in my prime, you know." She chuckled to herself, but the laughter gave way to a coughing fit that seemed to tear her insides apart. She wheezed and huffed, while her daughter looked on anxiously.

"Should I get the healer?"

Hermione shook her head. "I think it's time," she said softly.

Tears sprang into Rosie's eyes. "Mum, no. Don't be silly. You've got years left in you, yet."

"I think we both know that's not true," Hermione said with a rueful smile. "I'm not sad about it. In fact, I feel lucky. All those years fighting; it could have been me any one of those times. Charlie, Hannah, Cedric, they all went before their time. But I've had a long life, a beautiful daughter, the love of a good-hearted man, and three adorable grandchildren. I can't argue with my maker if he thinks I've finally played my hand. To go in a comfortable bed surrounded by people who love you; I can think of worse ways to die."

Rosie was valiantly fighting back her tears. "I don't want you to go. I'm not ready to get by without you."

"Oh, but you won't," Hermione said in surprise. "I'll always be with you." Rosie stared at her, confusion clear in her expression. Hermione smiled softly and stroked her daughter's hair. "Did I ever tell you about Draco Malfoy?" Rosie shook her head. "He was one-of-a-kind, that one. He fought on the wrong side of the war right up until the end, and then he sacrificed himself to save me."

Rosie nodded, struggling to see where this was going. "I think I remember learning about him in history," she said vaguely.

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Yes, you would have done. He loved me very much, and I loved him. This was before I met your father, you understand. I was heart-broken when he was killed. I raged for a long time about how unfair it was that he died just when he finally saw the error of his ways. I grieved for him for ever so long. But at last I understood that he never really left me. I always kept a place in my heart for him, even when I fell in love with Jack. That's the wonderful thing about love; there's always a little bit more there when you need it. And that's what you'll do with me. You'll keep me in your heart, and whenever you miss me you just close your eyes and I'll be there with you. No-one ever really dies, Rosie. Not when people love them and remember them."

"I know," Rosie whispered.

"Besides, your father's waiting for me. I don't want to keep him," she said with a smile.

Laughing through her tears, Rosie raised an eyebrow at her mother. "What about Draco Malfoy?" she asked.

Hermione chuckled. "I don't think jealousy exists beyond the veil," she said. "But if it does, I'll tell them both to stop being so silly and to become friends. I'm sure they'll listen to me. People usually do."

Rosie laughed again, and Hermione reached up to stroke her face with weakened, frail hands. Understanding, Rosie leaned down and allowed her mother to kiss her goodbye.

Hermione closed her eyes. All at once, flashes of memory passed through her mind, and the bad things didn't seem important anymore. She remembered the wind whipping through her hair and glancing over at Draco as he smiled at her. She remembered being introduced to Jack Wallace for the first time and going weak at the knees. She remembered Rosie being born, and she remembered naming her in memory of her first love's dream. She remembered snow, and dancing, and, as the light dimmed and she started to drift away, she remembered just a hint of Ogden's best tingling on her tongue.


End file.
